


The Pact

by Noelleian



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Dark, Angst, Fivesome - M/M/M/M/M, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Newtypes, Non-Graphic Violence, OT5, Omega Verse, Porn With Plot, Possessive Behavior, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2018-08-12 07:10:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 84,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7925425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noelleian/pseuds/Noelleian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After seducing Quatre, the other four ex-pilots brave the uncharted waters of their new abilities and learn to cope with the unintentional gifts they were given. But as always, power requires responsibility and the humbling acknowledgement of humanity's weaknesses. The struggle to stay true to themselves becomes a dangerous and terrifying endeavor as they skirt the boundary where conscience bleeds into chaos and the dark abyss of temptation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Commencing Operation: Goldilocks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so this originally started out as a two parter that decided to do its own thing and expand into something bigger. So naturally, I retitled it and gave it a new summary to fit the developing plot.
> 
> Hope you like it! ^_^
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own so please do not sue.

_Tuesday, December 9th, 201, 10:58pm. Shanghai, Republic of China..._

“ _Is Operation: Goldilocks a go?_ ”

A long winded sigh. “Really? “Operation: Goldilocks”? This isn’t covert ops, Yuy. Melodrama doesn’t suit you.”

“ _What do you mean?_ ”

“I _mean_...ugh, you know what? I take that back. I seem to recall you being quite over the top during the war.”

“ _How so?_ ”

“Oh, let’s see...all the times you self-detonated. Spending three weeks in a funk because you actually deployed your parachute? And...oh, yeah. Remember that time you tried to kill yourself by “overdosing” on Rolaids? And what about the time -”

“ _Yeah, okay. I get it, Chang_.”

A derisive snort. “Operation: Goldilocks.”

“ _Oh, shut up. You think you can come up with something better?_ ”

“Well, considering this is peacetime, I don’t think code words are necessary. Or, are you just being nostalgic?”

“ _Maybe. It doesn’t matter. Have you talked to Trowa?_ ”

“Yeah. He says it’s all good.”

“ _Okay. See you then. Seventeen hundred hours_.”

“Christ, Yuy. Just say five o’clock.”

“ _Five o’clock_.”

“Thank you.”

***

_Friday, December 12th, 201, 1:10pm. Colony L4 X1339, Fifth District, aka: “Little Jordan”..._

Trowa Barton propped his elbow on the small wrought iron table situated on a little patio in one of L4′s trendy districts, drumming his fingers against his cheek and obsessively checking his watch. Ten minutes late. He huffed with impatience and wondered what happened to the Gundam pilots who, once upon a time, were unerringly prompt.

_Peacetime will make even the most hardened soldiers soft._

He scoffed at the inner voice inside his head and glared at the waiter who approached his table for the umpteenth time in the last twenty minutes. The kid stopped dead in his tracks, eyes widening, hands lifting in a show of surrender before he turned tail and scurried away. Trowa turned his head back towards the street, his keen eyes watching the intersection for any sign of his friends while ‘ _Deck the Halls_ ’ tinkled into his ears from the speakers wedged into the pergola.

He had no idea why they were playing Christmas music, or for that matter, actually decking said halls on a predominately Muslim colony, but he supposed the “magic” of Christmas was tempting even to those whose religion did not recognize such a holiday. He wisely kept the nifty fact that Christmas was originally a Pagan holiday to himself, knowing how Duo and Quatre scoffed at the idea despite knowing it was true.

Still, this was a rather touristy part of L4 so Trowa supposed he shouldn’t be too surprised considering Christmas was the largest, most profitable holiday, and such displays undoubtedly attracted more visitors. He couldn’t deny that all the twinkling lights, garlands, and decked out trees were very lovely to look at and he found himself actually contemplating getting himself a tree of his own to decorate.

Catherine always had a small tree in her trailer this time of year that she took great pleasure in smothering with ornaments, lights, and gobs of tinsel. During Trowa’s circus days, she would constantly bug him to help her decorate it, insisting it was “fun” and would get him into the “Christmas spirit”. Trowa would merely cross his arms over his chest and glower in the corner as he watched her toss handfuls of silver and gold strings all over the little tabletop tree.

He finally began participating when she told him she’d decorate him instead and followed that up by covering him in tinsel while he slept one night. It took over a year before he finally stopped finding bits of the sparkly foil in his bedding.

Christmas aside, the purpose of this little excursion resulted from Trowa’s concern that their fellow ex-pilot was working himself to the bone and taking no time out to take care of his own needs. Quite frankly, he was tired of watching everyone taking, taking, taking, and demanding more and seeing the dark circles, the exhaustion in Quatre’s eyes. Though it was far from just simple exhaustion. There was hopeless lassitude in them. The acceptance that he was nothing more than a wallet, a media pawn, and a public spectacle. The spark of life and zest that Trowa had come to love and expect in the blond, was gone. In essence, Quatre had lost himself because no one really took the time to view and treat him like a human being.

The straw that broke the camel’s back had been when Quatre attended a fundraiser back in October, one that benefited former child soldiers like themselves who’d been displaced. Quatre donated unprecedented amounts of money and resources to the charity organization. But instead of the media focusing on that, they ran a story that featured a photograph of him standing next to Vice Foreign Minister Relena Darlian, with the declaration that the two were not only “engaging in an illicit affair”, but also claimed, according to their “anonymous” source, that Mr. Winner was “having trouble getting it up for the lovely ESUN official”.

Trowa was woken up by a call at three in the morning by a distraught Quatre who tearfully confessed that he was gay and then wept brokenly into his hands. It hurt Trowa’s heart to see him in such a state and enraged him that someone so kind and generous was being treated so terribly. 

Once they’d disconnected their call, Trowa contacted the other three Gundam pilots, intent on some kind of intervention. The others immediately agreed to the plan and Operation: Goldilocks was set into motion. 

That was two months ago and now the time had come to put the plan into action. Coincidentally, it also just so happened to be Quatre’s birthday. It warmed Trowa’s heart to know that his fellow ex-pilots were more than happy to help. The five of them had a special bond, something stronger than Gundanium. Something that could never be broken. Their pact was impenetrable and eternal. It would never change, or fade away. When one of them was in trouble, the other four would always drop everything to be there.

A screech of tires and honking horns jolted Trowa out of his musings and he jerked his head up towards the source of the sound, instantly knowing who it was. A moment later, a tiny Volvo pealed through the intersection, narrowly missing a few cars. It made a sudden hard right, the vehicle tipping and balancing on the left side tires before righting itself. Trowa smirked as the driver slammed on the brakes and spun ninety degrees in the middle of the street, leaving black skid marks on the pavement and causing drivers and pedestrians alike to dodge out of the way, shake their fists, and shout obscenities. The car finally came to rest against the curb right in front of Trowa’s table, the smell of burning rubber drifting across his nostrils.

Three of the four doors swung open and out stepped his fellow pilots and best friends. Trowa wasn’t surprised when Duo emerged from the driver’s seat and even less surprised when he noticed Wufei’s haggard, and slightly green, appearance. The Chinese man grumpily slammed the door and waved his hand in front of his face to clear away the wisps of smoke that rose up from the still hot tires. 

“That’s the last time I ride in a car with you, Maxwell.”

Duo turned and stared at him with confused eyes, not even acknowledging the shouts of, “Jerk!” and “Asshole!” and “Learn to drive!” from irate passersby. 

“What?”

Wufei propped his hands on his hips. “What do you mean “what”? You nearly killed us about a dozen times in the ten minute drive from the shuttle port!”

“Bah,” Duo waved his hand. “Not a dozen. Half a dozen, I’ll give you that.”

Wufei sputtered and pointed at the car. “That is a _Volvo_ , Maxwell. Not a Gundam, nor is it one of your ten cylinder Chevy pickups. It’s also a rental and I sure as hell am not footing the bill when you inevitably return it as a smoking husk.”

Heero shouldered his bag and shut the passenger door, eyeing Wufei with an arched brow. “ _Who’s_ melodramatic now?”

“Shut up, Yuy!”

Trowa decided it was time to step in and stood up, walking towards the curb. “Guys. _Guys!_ Relax. You’re here in one piece. That’s all that matters. Wufei, come, have a seat. I’ll buy you a drink.”

“Make it a double.”

Trowa smiled. “Done.” He wrapped an arm around Wufei’s back and patted it. “It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t start blubbering now. One Winner is enough.”

He laughed, extending his arms towards Heero and the two men embraced each other tightly. Heero pressed his face against Trowa’s cheek and whispered, “How are you?” With the exception of Quatre, Trowa considered Heero his closest friend. They had similar backgrounds, similar personalities. They understood each other in ways the other pilots did not. 

“I’m alright. You?”

Heero shrugged and pulled away. “You know how it is. I finally managed to secure a place in Relena’s security detail. I swear, it’s like joining a fraternity.”

“And what would you know about fraternities, Hee-chan?” Duo drawled as he stepped up onto the sidewalk. “If I remember correctly, I think you said, and I quote, “I’ll go to college when it’s not inundated with commie hippies”.” He grinned and slapped Trowa on the back. “How ya doin’, man?”

“Fine, fine. How’s the scrapping business?”

“It’s good. Been on Howard’s ass to accept the position as the supreme leader of the Sweepers Union."

“He doesn’t want it?”

“Eh, you know Howie. Humble guy. He thinks I’d do better at it.”

“Maybe you would.”

“Nuh-uh. No way, man. I do not want the ESUN crawling all over my ass day in and day out with their hands out for a cut like a bunch of beggars.”

“They want to tax you guys?”

“They already are.” Duo shrugged and waved his hand. “Ah, they tax everyone. Nothing to be done about that. Everything’s a political game. Makes you wonder what the hell we fought for.”

“That’s probably why Howard doesn’t want it.”

“Howard just wants to scrap and toke in peace. He’d be good at it, though. He knows the business like no one else.”

“Uh, excuse me.” They turned to see Wufei already seated at the table, looking decidedly impatient. “I believe someone promised me a drink.”

Trowa smiled and nodded. “Sorry, Wufei.” He gestured to Duo and Heero. “Drink? My treat.”

“Aw, Tro, you don’t have to do that.”

“It’s my pleasure. Come on and sit. We’ve got time.”

***

After two rounds of scotch and soda and a light beer for Heero, which prompted Duo to snort and mutter, “Lightweight,” the conversation flowed smoothly between them. It was nice to have them all together without the threat of impending battles and possible death. It was a little sobering considering the small, cheerful blond was missing from the equation, but it wouldn’t be long before they were all together again. 

Trowa’s stomach flipped with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. Doubts and second thoughts began to swirl in his mind as the countdown continued, wondering why he was just now getting nervous. He checked his watch again, his body flushing with a rush of adrenaline as he realized they only had an hour left. 

“You alright, Tro?”

“Hmm? Oh. Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You sure? You look like you’re gonna hurl. Are you getting cold feet?”

He took a deep breath and tried for a smile. “No,” he lied, then thought better of it.  “Yes. I don’t know why I’m getting nervous now.” 

“Maybe because we’re planning on jumping our fair little fellow pilot’s bones?” Wufei pointed out and tipped his drink back.

Trowa chewed his lip. “What if he gets angry? What if he -”

Heero paused from his task of peeling the label off his beer bottle and gave Trowa a pointed look. “We’re not just going to jump on him the second we see him, Trowa.”

“I know that, but...I don’t know. What if he hates us after this?”

Duo stuck his elbow on the table and held up one finger. “First of all, Tro, our Kitty-Quat is incapable of hate. You know that.” He extended his middle finger. “Second, this is Quat we’re talking about. When has he ever turned any of us down for anything? I mean, shit, I could ask to shave his head and then tar and feather him and he’d be like, “Oh sure, Duo. Whatever you want.”” Trowa chuckled as Duo’s voice rose up in a softer, higher pitched lilt and mimicked Quatre’s Middle Eastern accent almost perfectly.

“I suppose you’re right.”

“Face it, Tro. Once we get started, we’ll have that little blond pipsqueak begging us for more.”

There was a collective shift from all four of them as their minds turned towards the prospect of sex, not only with Quatre, but with each other. They shared heated looks across the table and hands suspiciously disappeared from view to make a few necessary adjustments.

Wufei stirred his drink, his face serious, almost scolding. “I’m sure it’ll be great for all of us, but remember, this is about making Quatre feel special and loved.”

“Which he is,” Trowa said. “Especially by us.”

“Right.” Wufei finished off his drink and flagged the waiter. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m ready to do this.”

“Same,” Heero murmured, his cheeks flushed.

Duo upended his drink and placed the glass on the table with a dramatic gesture. “Yep. Let Operation: Goldilocks commence,” he said, then snickered into his fist a moment later which earned him a glare from Heero. “What about you, Tro? You ready, or is your dick doing a turtle impression?”

Trowa glowered across the table at the braided man. “No, it’s not doing a “turtle impression”.” Quite the opposite, in fact. He glanced around, feeling a rush of relief when he noticed the patio was rather empty.

Seeing four guys with raging boners climb into a Volvo together would be a little awkward.

***

_Friday, December 12th, 201, 3:54pm. Colony L4, X1339, Ninth District..._

The apartment at the top of the twenty one story high rise was dark as a result of the drapes drawn over the windows and effectively blocked out the artificial sunlight that was set to mimic four o’clock on earth. The living room was illuminated only by the flickering light from the television screen that changed from the news, to a sitcom, to police dramas, reality shows, and documentaries as the apartment’s single occupant flipped through channels with restless fatigue. 

 _Five hundred channels and there’s still nothing on,_ Quatre thought, finally settling on some cheesy western. He propped his head on his hand and watched John Wayne flash his badge, drawl out a snarky retort, then proceed to engage in a gunfight with a group of generic villains conveniently dressed in black. He blinked heavy eyelids and fought off a yawn, pulling the blankets up higher over his lap until they reached his chest.

He couldn’t remember a time when he’d been this tired. Not even during the war. Maybe it was the constant fear of death that kept one on their toes. He wasn’t sure, but he knew for a fact he was still far too young to attribute it to age.

“ _Oh, you’re a wise guy, eh? Let’s see how smart ya are with a mouthful of lead_.” 

He rolled his eyes and covered another yawn with his hand. “How original.”

And okay, it wasn’t what he’d pictured when he imagined celebrating his twenty first birthday. If he were honest, this was just downright pitiful, but he simply did not have the energy to go out in public and play the role of the young, beautiful, and charismatic CEO, pretending his life was just as glamorous as the press made it out to be. He just didn’t have the energy, or the will to plaster fake smiles on his face and have people who really didn’t care about him as a person all over him, invading his privacy and personal space. It was exhausting and after five years of it, Quatre was on the verge of losing his mind.

He swiped the container of fried rice off the coffee table with a sigh and stirred it with the chopsticks that protruded from the half-eaten meal. “Happy birthday to me,” he sang as he took a bite of the now cold rice. He chewed slowly, barely tasting it, not even hungry really, but needing something to do. 

So far, he’d vegged out on three sci-fi movies, one romcom, and watched a documentary about the mating practices of Black Widows. All in all, he could honestly say this was a shit birthday, but at least he’d been able to spend it in some much-needed solitude. It was rather nice going a full day without being harassed. 

“ _Now, look here, son. I’m of half a mind to turn you over my knee and take the leather to ya_.”

He snorted and coughed as a few grains of rice slid down the wrong pipe. He washed it down with the water bottle that was leaning against his leg and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “Who knew the Duke was such a kinky bastard?”

***

He didn’t realize he’d fallen asleep until a loud knocking on the door, followed by a series of bell rings startled him. His head flew up off the arm of the couch, the magazine he fell asleep on sticking to his cheek. He peeled it off and struggled out of the blankets, only half awake and a little disoriented. He landed face first onto the floor with a thump when he failed to untangle his legs and groaned in frustration, kicking furiously in the air in an attempt to free himself. 

“Get off me, damn it!” 

The knocking turned into pounding and he shouted, “I’m _coming_ ,” a little pissed off that someone was not only disturbing his peace and quiet, but also doing so rather aggressively. He idly wondered if maybe the building was on fire, but dismissed it when he didn’t hear any alarms going off. 

He stepped up to the door, scratching his head, and peered through the peephole, cursing when it seemed whoever it was had their hand over it. He pressed his face into the tiny crack between the door and the jamb. 

“Who is it?”

“Housekeeping,” answered a ridiculously sounding falsetto.

“There is no housekeeping here. It’s an apartment, not a hotel.”

“Uh...room service?”

Quatre’s eye twitched. “I just said it’s an apartment, not a hotel, you idiot! Now, are you going to tell me the truth, or am I going to have to call security?”

“Damn. Um...pizza delivery?”

“I didn’t order any goddamned pizza! Now, you’d better either walk away, or tell me who you are and what you want before I put a bullet in your kneecap.”

He pressed his ear against the door when another voice piped up, sounding strangely familiar. “Maxwell, quit playing games and just tell him -”

He swung the door open, cutting off Wufei’s sentence and stared at his four fellow pilots in surprise. He glanced from one awkwardly smiling man to the next and arched a brow. “What the hell is this and why are you all looking at me like you’re about to tell me you need a lawyer?”


	2. Unexpected Bonds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I don't even know, man. This thing just went its own way and I have no clue where it's going yet. It probably sucks since this my first attempt at writing OT5 and it was a real pain. xD
> 
> It turned into more of a 1x4, 2x4, 3x4, 5x4 type thing. I wasn’t planning on this going past two parts, but the way it is now leaves it open for a bigger plot to develop and I’m not sure if I should just rewrite the end so that it ends there. I don’t know where the twist at the end came from. Some dark, scary, cobwebbed part of my brain obviously.
> 
> Also, wtf are pronouns?

_Friday, December 12th, 201, 5:04pm. Colony L4 X1339, Ninth District..._

Duo rubbed his neck and smiled at the blond who stood in the doorway with his hands on his hips and his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Hey, Quat. Surprise! Happy birthday.”

Quatre dubiously eyed the braided man and nodded curtly. “Uh...thanks. Is this a friendly visit, or are you guys in trouble?”

Duo actually had the gall to look offended. “What would make you think that?”

Quatre stared up at the ceiling and tapped his chin. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s because of that time you showed up at my door to ask me for money to pay off a loan shark that was threatening to cut off your thumbs. Or, maybe it was the time you called me begging me to bail you out of jail for operating a motor vehicle on a suspended license as a result of your reckless driving. Or, how about the time -”

“Okay, okay. Read ya loud and clear. And no, that’s not why I’m - _we’re_ here.”

“Quat,” Trowa stepped forward and braced his hand on the trim around the door. “We’re here because it’s your birthday and we wanted to see you.”

Quatre’s wary expression finally faded at the softly spoken confession and adopted one that the other pilots were much more familiar with. He gasped and blushed, the pink of his cheeks fetching on his pixie face. "Oh, gosh! I’m so sorry, you guys. I - don’t know what’s come over me lately.” He offered them an apologetic smile. “I guess I’m just getting too used to people demanding handouts, or asking me to help them out of some sticky situation, or another. I didn’t mean to be rude, or suspicious of you. Forgive me?”

Duo smirked and jerked a thumb at the guilty looking blond. “Listen to him apologizin’.” He shook his head and crossed the threshold, taking Quatre into his arms. “There’s nothing to forgive, love. If anything, I should be apologizin’ for putting you through that. I’m sorry if I took advantage.”

Quatre paused, a little stunned at Duo’s choice of pet names, but decided to let it slide in the meantime. He balked and wrapped his arms around his friend’s shoulders. “Don’t be silly! You’re my best friend. All of you are. I would do anything for you guys.”

Trowa nudged Duo out of the way and swept him into an embrace that not only took him by surprise, but ignited a fire deep within him that could have easily been construed as desire. Even more so when Trowa whispered against his ear, the gesture and emotion in his voice so intimate that it caused a shiver to travel down his spine. 

“And we would do anything for you, Quat. _Anything_.”

Hearing that and knowing it was true triggered such a visceral reaction in him, he was helpless to stop it even if he wanted to. After being treated like nothing more than an endless well of money, an inanimate object by media and public alike, just hearing that he was more than that from the people who meant the most to him was enough to crumble the tenuous wall he’d built around himself in a desperate attempt to protect what was left of him.

A sob bubbled past his lips and he pressed them together to prevent another one from escaping. Trowa’s hand tenderly stroking his hair wasn’t helping and his chin quivered as he caught the soft, gentle expressions of his other three friends. 

“It’s okay, baby. We’re here. We’ll always be here for you.”

Unable to contain the emotions, the pain that had built up after years of being treated as a nonentity, they forced their way out and he buried his face in Trowa’s shoulder, releasing years worth of pent up anger, frustration, sorrow, and loneliness. Behind him and against his sides, he felt the other three men wrap themselves around him as he blubbered into Trowa’s shoulder and soaked his cotton shirt with his tears.

“I love you guys so much.”

“We love you, too, Quatre,” Wufei murmured against the side of his head. “Never doubt that.”

He pulled away and smiled, wiping the tears from his face. “I don’t doubt it. Not for a second. I can feel it, right here.” He tapped his chest, the spot directly over his heart. “I’m so glad you’re all here. I was -” a bitter laugh, “I was just thinking what a shit birthday this was.”

Duo placed a hand on his shoulder and ducked down until they were eye to eye. “Is it still a shit birthday?”

He smiled and shook his head. “No. This has easily become the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

Duo gripped his arm and strode into the apartment like he owned the place, dragging the laughing blond along behind him. “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet, Q-babe. Let’s get this party started!”

 

***

 

_Friday, December 12th, 201, 7:04pm. Colony L4 X1339, Ninth District..._

After three vodka sours, Quatre was decidedly tipsy, feeling relaxed and happy for the first time in a long time. The gathering was casual and comfortable with jackets slung over armchairs, shoes and boots piled haphazardly in the corner of the room, and leftover Chinese containers strewn across the coffee table. There was no pressure to put on airs, or feel the need to entertain. Instead, they lounged on the sofa, watching Clint Eastwood clean up yet another one horse town while they cracked cheesy jokes and laughed like hyenas.

His friends were, to his surprise, extremely affectionate, even touchy-feely and Quatre found he was in no mood to complain about that. He was rather enjoying the “puppy pile” as Duo called it. It only took twenty minutes and one cocktail before he was surrounded, almost smothered on his couch at the center of a sprawled out, but warm heap of Gundam pilots, so tangled together, he couldn’t tell where one of them ended and another one began. No matter their position, each of them found a way keep at least one hand on him at all times and he loved the various thumbs stroking gently over his arm, leg, hip, and cheek. 

“Hmmm,” he hummed, feeling wonderfully cozy and content, and smiled as he nuzzled his face into Trowa’s belly. “This is nice.”

Duo lifted his head from Quatre’s thigh and glanced up at him. “You sure? You’re not bored?”

Quatre gave him an incredulous look. “Are you kidding? This is the best! I don’t have to do anything but just enjoy you guys. You don’t expect me to entertain you, or pretend to be something I’m not. I’m loving this.”

Duo nodded and rested his head on Quatre’s thigh again. “Good.” 

The status quo continued for another fifteen minutes until Quatre felt a hand touch his backside. At first thought, he figured it was a mistake and expected it to move away as soon as the culprit realized what he was touching. It didn’t. Instead, it pressed more firmly against him and he sucked in a sharp breath a moment later when it squeezed his right buttock. 

“Uh...who’s squeezing my ass?”

“Me,” Duo murmured and Quatre was hard-pressed to find any hint of awkwardness, or embarrassment in his voice.

“Why?”

“Mmm...because you have a luscious, beautiful little bubble butt and I don’t think it gets groped enough.”

Quatre decided not to inform him that it got groped plenty of times, but only by people he would rather not be touching it. “Okaaaaaay?”

“You want me to stop?”

His face and body flushed with heat because he actually didn’t and yet he was still practically pinned down by the other three men and this was pretty awkward. He didn’t know if he should save face and tell him yes, or just let it be and see what happened.

Five minutes later, another hand pressed against his groin and he was torn between asking what the hell was going on and just ignoring it. He squirmed, a little uncomfortable when his penis began to perk up from the stimulation and he didn’t know if this was the intention, or if they were playing some cruel joke on him. The only person he’d ever disclosed his sexuality to was Trowa and that was during a shame-filled three o’clock in the morning phone call after the media ran a story about his alleged affair with Relena and claimed they were having relationship problems because he couldn’t “get it up” for her.

He’d been so humiliated by the story, not only for his sake, but for Relena’s who also didn’t deserve to be dragged through the dirt like that. He’d been forced to consistently deny the claims because he was constantly asked about it in addition to being offered embarrassingly personal and unsolicited “advice” on how to combat his so-called “erectile dysfunction”. It was awkward for everyone involved and despite not wanting it to put a strain on his friendship with Relena, it inevitably did just that. 

He’d also been worried about how Heero would react to the rumor and had called him after talking to Trowa, apologizing profusely and swearing on his mother’s grave that there was nothing going on between them. 

Heero took it well and Quatre realized he should have expected as much.

“Quatre, you know I don’t pay attention to tabloid rumors.”

“I know, but - I just...I know how you feel about her and I don’t want you to hate me -”

“I don’t hate you and I don’t blame you for this. You did nothing wrong. Besides, Relena and I are just friends.”

Which surprised him, but he accepted the admission at face value, relieved that Heero believed him and didn’t think any less of him. 

Still, this...whatever this was, frightened him because he had no idea if he was being hit on or messed with. The other pilots didn’t know about his sexuality unless Trowa had told them. If that was the case, he was going to be deeply hurt because that wasn’t Trowa’s secret to tell. He was pretty sure it was information he could trust the others with, but that was something he’d wanted to tell them himself, on his own terms. 

But in this way, if they knew, did they know it wasn’t something to tell anyone else? If such deeply personal information could so easily be spread among them, then why not just tell everyone else, too? Now, he couldn’t be sure who knew about it and this was most definitely not the way he wanted to come out. It should have been his choice, his decision, when he was ready. It wasn’t for anyone else to do it for him.

The hand on his groin suddenly squeezed and he yelped out a, “ _No_ ,” squirming his way out from underneath the pile and jumping to his feet. He walked a considerable distance away, using the coffee table as a barrier of sorts. He faced them, breathing hard, his face flushed red with anger and embarrassment. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing? Is this a joke to you? Am _I_ a joke to you?”

He watched their faces shift into expressions of shock as they sat up, their tangled limbs knocking into each other as they tried to right themselves. 

Trowa was already getting up off the couch, taking a step towards him which prompted Quatre to take two more steps back. “Stay away from me.”

“Quatre...what is it? What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong? What’s _wrong?_ ” He laughed, though it sounded more like a hoarse croak, harsh and bitter. “Is my sexuality a joke to you? Did you come all the way out here just to humiliate me? Fuck with me? Why would you do this to me?” Betrayal brought tears to his eyes and he blinked them back, not wanting to show his weakness in front of them. “I trusted you guys. More than I ever - more than I ever...” He trailed off and turned away, trying to compose himself.

“Quat...what are you talking about? We’re not messing with you.”

He looked over his shoulder and up into Trowa’s confused and damn him, his worried face. How _dare_ he act like he cared. “You had no right to do that.”

Trowa’s head shook with incomprehension, his face belaying his lack of understanding. “Do what?”

Quatre clenched his teeth in fury and spun around, pointing at the equally perplexed men still on the couch. “You told them, didn’t you? You bastard! You told them about me and now I’m just one big joke and you - and you - you decided to come out here, on my _birthday_ , so you could fuck with me. Oh, yeah. Gay people are so funny haha. Fuck you! Fuck all of you! Is this all I am to anyone anymore? A punchline? A laughing stock?” 

He turned around and stormed towards the hallway, wanting nothing more than to hide beneath his blankets and pretend the world around him didn’t exist. He paused at the threshold and glanced back at them. “Get out. Just get out. Go home. I don’t want to see any of you ever again.”

He disappeared, leaving the other four men stunned in the living room. They jumped a moment later when a door slammed closed. 

Wufei’s mouth opened and closed like a suffocating fish as he glanced around at the others. “What the hell just happened?”

Trowa turned slowly, his eyes suspiciously misty. “He thinks I told you.”

Duo threw up his hands, exasperated. “What? That he’s gay? I thought _everyone_ knew that. It’s...pretty obvious.”

Heero shook his head. “That’s not the point. The point is he didn’t know everyone already knew that.”

“He thinks I told you guys about his sexuality and that we all came out here to embarrass him about it. He thinks we betrayed him.” Trowa’s expression was so forlorn, so ashamed despite the fact that he hadn’t actually told anyone. “He hates us now.”

“Yeah, but...only because he’s misunderstanding the situation!” Duo pointed out, his voice rising with frustration.

Trowa looked helpless, throwing his hands up in the air. “So what do we do? He doesn’t want to see us anymore.” His voice cracked on the last word, devastated at the prospect of never seeing Quatre again.

Heero’s face was stony with determination as he stood up and walked towards the hallway. “We explain to him that what he thinks isn’t true.”

“Yeah, and what if he doesn’t believe us? Would _you_ believe us? How are we going to convince him?”

“By doing exactly what we came here to do.” He left the room, leaving the other three shuffling their feet nervously.

“This may not be the best idea after all,” Duo admitted.

Trowa lifted his chin, his face hardening with resolve. “It’s a chance we have to take. He already doesn’t want to see us. The worst has already happened. We have nothing to lose.” He spun around and left the room without another word, purpose in every step.

Duo glanced at Wufei and raised a brow. “Well, I don’t hear any shouting yet. That’s a good sign right?”

Wufei’s eyes flashed with something Duo couldn’t quite decipher. They darted towards the dark hallway where their friends had disappeared. “Only one way to find out.” 

Duo watched him walk out of the room and pressed his lips together, hesitating for only a moment.

“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time I got my ass handed to me. Might as well see this through.”

When he reached the doorway to the bedroom, he instantly figured out why there was no shouting. It appeared as though Quatre was getting the life kissed out of him. It also appeared as if his anger and protests had flown out the window if the slender arms that curled up around Trowa’s back was any indication. 

_Well, that was easy._

He snorted and approached the bed, watching Heero unbutton Quatre’s shirt, pressing tender kisses over each new exposed patch of creamy skin. At the foot of the bed, Wufei had already removed his shirt and was working his trousers down his legs.

“Nice to see you started without me,” Duo grumbled, pretending to be put out. 

“Shove it, Maxwell,” Wufei murmured as he kicked his pants and underwear off and grabbed him by the braid. He tugged on it until their faces were almost flush against each other. Their mouths came together in a heated kiss and Duo groaned as the slick slide of tongues sent sparks of pleasure into his groin. He reached behind Wufei’s head to pull his hair tie loose, dropping it on the floor and threading his fingers through strands of black silk. He cupped the back of Wufei’s head and pulled him closer to deepen the kiss, loving how the other man melted against him. 

They broke apart when a soft whimper drifted from the direction of the bed and turned towards the source of the sound, their hungry eyes taking in the erotic sight of Trowa lying between pale, skinny legs with his face buried in Quatre’s groin. The blond’s hands trembled as he reached down and grasped Trowa’s head, his fingers tangling in sleek brown hair. His moan was smothered by Heero’s mouth closing over his, but his body shook with pleasure, hips rising off the mattress as Trowa took him deep into his throat. 

Duo glanced at Wufei and the two shared a smug, mischievous grin. 

“Looks like Blondie’s been swayed,” Duo quipped and tipped his head towards the bed. “Shall we?”

Wufei nodded, his eyes glittering with lustful fire. “Oh, yeah.” 

Duo stared at the stunning vision that was Wufei’s bare ass as the Shenlong pilot crawled on all fours onto the bed. Heero pulled up and away, leaving Quatre breathless with lips that were red, swollen, and slick. Wufei happily took his friend’s place while Heero climbed off the bed to undress. He slid an arm beneath the blond head and lifted it up, leaning down to nip kisses over plush, quivering lips, and trailing his mouth over a soft, rosy cheek. He sucked the delicate skin of Quatre’s throat, feeling the vibration when his lover moaned and tipped his head back in surrender. 

He leaned forward and suckled on a tender nipple, watching from the corner of his eye as Trowa worked his lips over the blond’s erection. His eyes were closed, brows drawn low in concentration, but Wufei caught the blissful expression on his face and knew he was enjoying it as much as Quatre was. 

He glanced up when a shadow crossed in front him and smiled as Duo came to stand beside the bed, his clothing gone, erection bowed up in front of him, rock hard and weeping clear fluid. Duo stared down at Quatre with his trademark smirk and waggled his dick in front of the blond’s face. “Got somethin’ with your name on it, Kitty-Quat. You ready for it?”

Quatre’s eyes cracked open and he gazed blearily up at the braided man, dipping his chin in a nod. He turned his head willingly at Duo’s gentle press against his cheek and opened wide for the cock that bobbed only an inch above his mouth. He clumsily sucked it in, moaning around it as Trowa brought him steadily closer to climax.

Wufei stared, mesmerized, at Duo’s cock, wet and slick, and at Quatre’s lips stretched around it, so close to his own face and didn’t know whether to be jealous of Duo’s dick, or Quatre’s mouth. He reluctantly turned away when the bed dipped and watched Heero kneel next to Trowa and coat his fingers with lube. He nudged Trowa’s arm and the other man lifted up to allow him to slip his hand down between Quatre’s splayed thighs. 

Wufei looked back up at the blond’s face, wanting to see his reaction at the very moment of penetration. Quatre blurted out a muffled yelp that turned into a long moan. His lashes fluttered against his cheeks as his body accepted the invasion. Wufei reached down and hooked his arm around Quatre’s left leg, pulling it up and out of the way. A moment later, Duo followed suit, leaning over and grasping Quatre’s right leg behind the knee, lifting it up into the air.

Wufei lowered his head and pressed his lips against Quatre’s impish ear. “Let go, baby. We’ve got you.”

And he did. They were all treated to the breathtaking sight of his body arching up, his slender hips undulating in throes of pleasure. Wufei could feel the trembling in the creamy thigh as he held it tight and after a few breathless moments, Quatre shouted and then choked around Duo’s cock. He seized up as his orgasm swept him away and Wufei watched Trowa suck him in deeply, drinking him down until he was shaking and whimpering from the influx of stimulation.

Duo pulled out for a few minutes to give him a chance to catch his breath, staring down at him as if he was the most fascinating creature he’d ever seen. Quatre was always beautiful, but never more so than like this, flushed and satiated, his satiny skin glowing with a fine sheet of sweat, his hair mussed and lips swollen. Duo caressed a soft cheek and brushed damp bangs off the heated forehead, squeezing his cock with his other hand in a frantic attempt to quell the animalistic urge to roughly shove himself back into that delectable mouth and make the blond choke on it. He settled for rubbing the tip over the glistening lips and hissed through his teeth as a pink tongue poked out and laved over the mushroom shaped head. 

At the foot of the bed, Heero and Trowa had come to an agreement which essentially meant that Trowa had asserted his right to claim Quatre first. Heero respectfully conceded and handed the other man a condom and the tube of lubrication, watching with his hands on his hips while Trowa rolled the condom on and slicked up his cock. 

Wufei lifted Quatre’s upper body and squeezed in behind him, leaning against the wooden headboard, then settled the blond against his chest and closed his arms around him. Quatre was still loopy, dazed from his orgasm and his head lolled over Wufei’s chest as the Heavyarms pilot, now naked, lowered his body on top of him. Trowa glanced up at Wufei, shocking the other man with the aggressive light, the possessiveness in his green eyes. The brunette broke the stare first and dipped his head down, closing his mouth over Quatre’s. 

He lifted up again after kissing their lover senseless and wrapped powerful arms around Quatre’s slender thighs. He wrenched them out of Duo’s and Wufei’s grasp and lowered them to the bed on either side of his hips. They all watched with baited breath as he braced himself with one hand and guided his cock to the tiny opening nestled between the blond’s buttocks. 

Quatre jolted and tensed as he was penetrated and Wufei soothed him through it until Trowa was all the way inside, stopping only when he could go no further. He didn’t bother to wait for Quatre to adjust, far too worked up and ready to fuck. He retracted his hips, then pressed back in, each thrust building up to a hard and fast rhythm that jarred the body in Wufei’s arms and repeatedly pushed Quatre’s sweat-slicked back against his chest.

Quatre was already gone to the pleasure, tossing his head back and forth, unleashing a litany of whimpers and soft cries that increased in volume and frequency as his prostate was repeatedly battered by the tip of Trowa’s cock. Duo stepped forward again and pushed his erection between the parted lips, working up to a pace that nearly matched Trowa’s. 

Wufei’s own cock throbbed with arousal and he rolled his hips, rubbing it against Quatre’s lower back and smothering his groans against his moist temple. He slowed down after a few minutes of harsh friction when his body alerted him to the threat of climax, wanting to hold it until he was buried inside the man in his arms.

Trowa was also lost to the pleasure, thrusting roughly into the blond beneath him and growling through clenched teeth. His orgasm surged up and peaked, seizing his body with delicious agony. His hips stilled, pressing hard against Quatre’s ass, his back bowing sharply as he groaned and released within the confines of tight, velvety heat. 

It took some cajoling, followed by a few sharp shoves to finally get Trowa’s dead weight off the blond. He moved, reluctantly, pulling his cock out and rolling off to the side, panting and sweaty. Wufei tried not to be jealous as he watched Heero move into place between Quatre’s splayed thighs and seek the opening he was craving himself. 

Heero’s pace was a little more sedate, calmer in contrast to Trowa’s roughness. Wufei considered the fact that Trowa was harboring six years worth of attraction, desire, and a profound love for Quatre that had built up into an extreme amount of tension which inevitably spilled forth at the first opportunity to have him. He glanced over his shoulder to where the former Heavyarms pilot was recovering, noticing that Trowa’s eyes were trained on Heero, watching him intently for what Wufei assumed was any sign that their friend would step out of line.

And perhaps that was why Heero was being so careful. Wufei knew he was keenly aware of the hawk-eyed gaze on him, aware that he was fucking the blond only because Trowa was allowing it. Duo had also eased off a little, nervous about choking Quatre when the blatantly possessive man was so close. It was a pertinent reminder for Wufei himself to take it easy when he had his turn.

Quatre, for his part, seemed completely unaware of the shift in dynamics and the watchful eye of his territorial best friend. His hands fluttered up, clutching Heero’s sides tightly, his fingertips digging into the supple skin as he pulled the man closer and wrapped his legs around him.

“Faster...faster, please.”

Heero picked up the pace, but remained gentle, opting to roll and rotate his hips for added stimulation instead of forceful thrusts which seemed to appease their lover. Quatre nodded his head in satisfaction, slurring out emphatic praises between moans.

Duo was close now, his vocalizations rising in pitch. He threw his head back, trying his best to fight the instinct to shove in roughly. Quatre caught on to his rising orgasm and sucked harder, humming around the length. Duo cursed and tried to pull out, but Quatre grabbed his ass and pulled him in closer until his nose was nestled in brown pubic hair. Duo shouted and came with a visible shudder and Quatre eagerly swallowed it, his big blue eyes peering up at his friend’s face, enjoying the beautiful sight of the braided man coming undone. 

Duo huffed, his body jerking with overstimulation and pulled out with a giddy laugh. “Oh, fuck, Quat. Goddamn.” He pressed a kiss to Quatre’s forehead and walked on wobbly legs around the bed, collapsing down next to Trowa, his bare chest gleaming as it heaved in the low evening light. “I think he sucked my soul out of me,” he said to no one in particular and closed his eyes in contentment.

Heero leaned down and covered Quatre’s mouth with his own, no doubt tasting Duo on the blond’s tongue, and groaned into his mouth as his hips picked up speed the closer he came to the cusp of climax. Quatre, recovered from his first orgasm, his cock once again hard and weeping, nodded his encouragement and wrapped skinny arms around Heero’s muscular shoulders. He kissed the Wing pilot’s neck and chest, tweaking peaked nipples with his thumbs. Several thrusts later, Heero bit down on his lips and came with a muffled whimper. His hips continued to move, prolonging the exquisite pleasure for as long as possible until he dropped down on top of Quatre, breathing hard into his neck. 

Wufei gave him a few minutes to come down from his high, then nudged him with a knee. “Move it, Yuy.”

Quatre tilted his head up to look Wufei in the eye. “You going to fuck me now?”

He cupped a soft cheek and stroked his thumb over it. “Do you want me to?”

Quatre nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I do. I don’t know what’s going on, or why you all decided to do this, but...I think it’s helped me get closer to you.”

Duo turned onto his side and propped his head on his hand. “Well, I should hope so considering this is about as close as anyone can get.”

“Yeah, but,” Quatre shook his head and rested his hand over his heart. “It’s not just physical closeness. I can feel you all...in here.” He tapped his chest. 

Heero wedged himself in between Trowa and Wufei, the latter suddenly grateful that Quatre owned such a large bed. “You couldn’t before?”

“I could, but not like I can now. It’s...different. Stronger. Deeper.” He looked back up at Wufei. “I want to feel you like that, too.”

God, but Wufei wanted that so much. He dipped his head down and kissed the blond, pushing his tongue past yielding lips and plundering the hot depths of his mouth. More horny that he could ever remember being, he scooted down until he was laying flat on his back with Quatre still sprawled on top of him. He could barely reach his dick in this position so he shot his friends a helpless, imploring look. 

“Little help?”

Duo snorted and climbed off the bed to grab the condoms and lube. Wufei raised his knees and hooked Quatre’s legs over his own, jumping a little when Duo placed the condom on the tip of his cock and unrolled it over his length.

“Don’t say I never did you any favors, man,” he said as he coated Wufei’s erection with the lube. “Okay, you’re all set.” He moved back and crawled over Heero’s and Trowa’s legs, plopping down to watch. 

Wufei glanced up and caught the gazes of his fellow pilots, suddenly feeling extremely self-conscious. “Jeez, no pressure, or anything.”

“Hey, we all had an audience, Chang. Suck it up.”

Quatre, who apparently gave zero shits about whether he was being watched, or not, rubbed his backside over Wufei’s groin, causing the man beneath him to hiss at the delicious friction. 

“Fei, please...Fuck me.”

He cursed, stretching his arm beneath Quatre’s hip and grasping his cock which pulsed and throbbed, demanding to be buried inside the blond’s tight heat. He rubbed the tip over the opening and then pushed his way in, groaning at the willful acceptance and hot suction of Quatre’s body which opened up and gripped him with delightfully rippling muscles.

He grabbed Quatre’s thighs in his hands and thrust up, then pulled out a little before pressing back inside. Quatre mewled on top of him, the vibrations of his moans reverberating through Wufei’s chest. He held on tight and worked himself up to a vigorous rhythm, savoring the slap of sweat-slicked skin. 

Quatre lost himself in the rapture of being fucked, his hand closing over his cock, tugging as every push of Wufei’s hips brought him closer to the edge of another mind-blowing orgasm. It only took a few more minutes before he was spilling over his hand with a loud cry. Wufei clamped a powerful arm over his waist and pressed in hard, groaning into his neck as he shook with release just moments later. 

Quatre’s mouth was stretched in what he presumed was a dopey smile as he was tipped onto his side and placed between Heero and Trowa who both wrapped their arms around him. Content, he snuggled into their embrace, feeling pleasantly drowsy. Warm, safe, and loved. 

Trowa swept damp hair away from his face and pressed kisses over his flushed skin. “How are you feeling, love?” 

He stretched with a happy sigh and curled himself around the larger man. “Mmm...incredible. I didn’t think it was possible to feel you any deeper inside me, but what we did...somehow...” He let the sentence fade, not knowing how to explain it. Somehow, sex opened their connection, enhancing it on a much more profound level that he didn’t quite understand yet.

And the realization that his empathy could seemingly do such a thing after having sex didn’t quite sit right with the rest of them. Not because of the connection they now had with him, but the possibility of him connecting like that with anyone else seemed horrendously wrong. The fact that it could happen with someone who wasn’t them seemed sacrilegious. An abomination. What they had didn’t belong to anyone else, shouldn’t belong to anyone else. 

And thanks to his newfound deeper connection, Quatre picked up on it immediately, his skin prickling from the jealousy, the possessiveness that swept over him like a physical force.

He looked up, a little surprised to find four pairs of eyes on him, gleaming with a fire that frightened yet aroused him at the same time. His mouth dropped open, at a loss for words when Trowa gripped his chin in firm fingers and stared intently into his eyes. 

“No one else is allowed to have you, you understand?”

Quatre’s brows drew low and he studiously ignored the heady rush such a display of dominance provoked, instead focusing on the obvious lack of consideration for his autonomy. 

“I think that’s my decision to make. Not yours. The only reason you all fucked me is because I let you. It would not have happened any other way.”

His hackles rose as the heated looks never wavered. He pushed Trowa’s hand away from his face and glared at them.

“Hey. You don’t get to do that to me. I am my own man, not a possession. It’s _my_ decision.”

Duo leaned over Trowa and peered down into Quatre’s face. “Yeah? And what happens if you give yourself to someone else and that someone else mysteriously disappears?”

Quatre’s eyes widened. “Are you listening to yourself? You’re talking about killing someone I choose of my own volition to have sex with! This is manipulation. It’s emotional blackmail!”

“Then don’t have sex with anyone else,” Heero said. 

Quatre pounded the mattress, fury lit across his body. “Damn you! All of you! How dare you think you have the right to tell me what to do, or who I choose to be with -”

“And who do you choose to be with?” Trowa asked.

“I chose to be with you guys because I love you. There’s no one else, but who knows if that will change in the future -”

“It won’t, baby. You belong to us now.”

He slapped a hand over his face and dropped his head to the pillow with a groan. “Goddamnit, I’m too damned tired for this knuckle-dragging display of machismo.”

Trowa caressed his face. “Then sleep. We’ll discuss this when you wake up.”

“There’s nothing to discuss!”

“Sleep, Quat.”

And why did his exhaustion suddenly increase with that soft command? His eyes drifted closed even as a disturbing thought crossed his mind. If sex with them enhanced his abilities, then could it also be possible that through this new connection, this stronger bond, that the other four were not only given deeper insight into him, but could also influence him? Force him to do and feel things that didn’t come from himself?

His own ability to influence others was minimal at best. He couldn’t get people to do his bidding, or even change their thought process. The most he could do was push an emotion on them, able to cheer someone up who was feeling down. It wasn’t something he actively did, preferring not to invade privacy. There was a certain moral wrongness of influencing someone’s emotions, even if it was only to take away a person’s pain for a little while. It wasn’t his place to do so. 

On the rare occasions it did happen, it was accidental, typically occurring when he was overtaxed and stressed out and he felt terrible once he realized what he’d done. 

If the connection between him and his friends was even stronger, then wasn’t it possible that the one-way bond was now a two-way avenue? Logically, it made perfect sense that such a connection could branch out and give the other four men abilities as well. And that was unnerving because he didn’t know if they were capable of understanding the depth of responsibility that came with it.  It had taken Quatre nearly eighteen years to develop the ability to keep it under control and it was something he was born with. It was impossible, if what he suspected was true, for the other pilots to possess the same amount of control, or be able to understand the consequences of letting it go unchecked. 

He distantly registered a brush against his ear and another whisper. “Sleep...” His mind drifted even more, his thoughts becoming disjointed and fragmented, though one last lucid piece of awareness surfaced in his mind before it was lost in the abyss of unconsciousness.

_What have I done?_


	3. The Darkness Within

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains a character's conflict over committing rape, though there is no actual noncon.

Trowa brushed a few locks of blond hair away from Quatre's sleeping face and stared down at him, drinking in the beauty and peace of his gentle features. It took him a few moments to register the eyes boring holes into his head, but when he finally did, he was awkwardly conscious of it. He shifted uneasily and looked up, glancing from one shocked face to the next. 

"What?"

Duo sat up, looking rather exasperated. "What do you mean "what"? Dude, do you realize what you just did?"

He did, but he wasn't exactly comfortable with the knowledge. "I - I'm not sure."

"You put him to sleep, man! With your _mind_." Duo pointed at his temples. "How did you _do_ that?"

"I don't - I don't know. It just happened. I didn't mean to."

Heero climbed off the bed and reached for his jeans. "You've never done that before? To anyone else?"

"No. I don't think so. I've never been able to -" He froze mid-sentence, clarity slapping him upside the head. "But Quat could..."

Wufei drew his knee up to his chest, looking deep in thought. "Quatre said he could feel us much deeper than he could before. I can feel him, too. Very deeply. Even you guys, though it's not quite as strong. I've never felt this closely connected to anyone before."

"I do, too," Duo confirmed with a solemn nod. "Man, what a mind fuck."

Trowa looked back down at the slumbering blond. "Quat's a Newtype."

"Yeah, and how does sex with a Newtype result in something like this? Have any of you heard of this happening to other Newtypes, or from people who've been with them?"

Heero had turned away and was in the process of pulling his jeans up over his bare ass. He spun around and faced them as he zipped up his fly. "I haven't. I don't know if this is something that's common, or if it's some sort of anomaly."

"So...if Tro has Quat's abilities now, does that mean we all do?" Duo asked. 

"I don't know."

"And does Quat still have his abilities, or did we take them from him?"

"I don't know, Duo. We won't know that until Quatre wakes up. As for your first question, we can probably test that and find out easily enough," Heero pointed out as he slipped his shirt over his head. "We need to talk about this, but let's go to the living room and let him rest." He gestured towards the blond sprawled out on the bed, seemingly dead to the world. "And I need some coffee," he added as he left the room, not bothering with his socks. 

"Yeah, okay," Duo mumbled, sliding off the bed and grabbing his clothes off the floor. He didn't make a move to dress, but watched Quatre sleep for several minutes, his face twisted in a strange mix of worry, uneasiness, and adoration. "I've never felt anyone like this before," he said, awe in his voice. "It's like I'm inside him. I can feel him in a weird, almost spiritual way." He glanced at Trowa. "Is this what it's like for him all the time?"

"Probably," Wufei murmured and got up, sifting through the pile of garments that were scattered around the room. He located his trousers and hopped on one foot as he stuck the other into a pant leg. "I definitely have a new level of respect for him. I can feel all of you, him most of all. Especially your whirlwind of emotions. I don't know how he lives with it day in and day out. I hope this isn't permanent because I don't know if I can take it."

“You and me both, Fei-man. I feel like this would drive me crazy if it lasts,” Duo said. His face paled as the gravity of the situation dawned on him. The possibility of this being a permanent thing and the implications, the cost of having such an ability had to be immense. The responsibilities one must carry every moment of every day, he couldn’t even begin to imagine. 

He stuck his hands into his hair, pushing through the tangled mess of his bangs. “Man, I’ve seen some weird shit in my life, but this takes the cake. I don’t even know what to make of it.” He paused, looking deeply uncomfortable. “I also feel like I would torture and kill anyone who lays a hand on him that ain’t us and take great pleasure in it. And that fucking scares me because I don’t know where it’s coming from.” He looked up at Trowa and Wufei, a little at ease when they appeared to understand. If he was reading their, _Holy shit! You, too?_ expressions correctly. Maybe it wasn’t just him then.

Wufei pulled his shirt on and fastened the clasps with a shake of his head. “This is too much for me to process without some tea.”

“Yeah, I feel you, man,” Duo agreed as he sat down to put his socks on.

Trowa looked back down at the blond in his arms. The fact that he’d been in love with Quatre for years, while never spoken out loud, was a given. Anyone who’d ever observed their interactions and had an ounce of skill interpreting the obvious knew that. Like the others, he could feel Quatre in ways he’d never known were possible as well as the other pilots to a lesser extent.

But there was an aspect of their circumstance now that was both new and unsettling. Within him was an unfamiliar and terrifying part of himself that he’d never had, or was aware of before. Like a beast trapped in an iron cage, pacing restlessly back and forth while a tempting morsel of meat dangled just beyond its reach. It was the only way he could describe it. There was a buzzing current of dominance and a murderous sense of ownership that left him feeling overwhelmed and a little queasy. He felt wild, untamed, and ready to kill anyone and anything that stood between him and Quatre.

He lowered his head until his face was almost brushing against the one beneath him and closed his eyes, breathing in the other's scent. It was stronger, more potent now. If Trowa had a word for it, the only one that came to mind was aphrodisiac, or perhaps pheromones. His body seemed to absorb Quatre's scent. It permeated through his pores and inundated his bloodstream, intensifying with every pump of his heart. He felt drugged, euphoric as his senses became saturated with the blond's smell. It made his skin tingle with a rush of heady power, the sensations igniting every nerve in his body and sending jolts of fiery electricity towards his groin which began to harden once again. He squeezed his eyes shut and grappled for the self control he normally possessed in spades in order to quell the monster inside him that was a hair's breadth away from pouncing.

"Hey, Tro. You coming?"

He glanced up, a little confused when both Duo and Wufei took involuntary steps back, their eyes widening with stunned surprise. 

"Damn, Tro. Cool it, dude. It's just us."

He was dimly aware of a faint rumble. Something he could only discern as a soft growl and it came as a shock when he realized it was coming from him. He noticed with increasing self consciousness that his nostrils were fanned out, his teeth bared behind curled lips. He was pretty sure he looked feral. He _felt_ feral. He closed his eyes and shook himself out of it, pushing down on the listless creature that resided within. He jerked his head from side to side in an attempt to shake out the residual aggression that seemed to belong to someone, some _thing_ else and was consumed by a profound sense of guilt. He glanced back up at his friends, his expression contrite. 

"Sorry. I don't - I don't know what came over me. I don't know what's going on."

"Hey, it's okay." Duo took a few steps towards the bed, his hands raised and his eyes soft with understanding. Empathy. Trowa felt lower than dog shit for his behavior towards his best friends. "None of us know what's happening, but we'll figure it out, okay? If anyone can get to the bottom of this, it's the five of us, y'know? I'm scared, too, man. But it'll be alright. We'll be alright."

"Yeah," he blew out a breath and felt some of the tension leave his body. "Yeah, you're right. I'm sorry I did that. I wasn't even aware of it."

"S'okay." Duo shrugged, a small grin curling up one side of his mouth. "We know you have dibs anyway, right Fei?" He turned around and was met with an empty space where the Chinese man stood only moments ago. He spun back around and threw his hands up. "Well, you know he agrees." He gestured towards the door. "C'mon. We'll get some coffee and sort this all out. I'm sure Heero already has a thousand and one theories cocked up in that analytic head of his."

Trowa nodded. "Yeah. Just, give me a sec. I need to get dressed."

"Sure thing, buddy," Duo lifted his hand in a vague wave and left the room. Trowa's stomach churned, feeling sour and out of sorts. He turned his gaze back to Quatre who hadn't moved, or even twitched during Trowa's rather impressive imitation of a caveman. He dipped his head again and inhaled the blond man's scent, his muscles loosening as his body was immersed in that same sense of serenity, like drugged elation. His cock throbbed, rock hard, pressing against Quatre's thigh and the tumultuous creature within stirred with raw desire, the need to dominate. The temptation to roll Quatre onto his back and shove himself inside the tantalizing heat of his body quickly taking precedence. He rubbed his erection against the soft, warm flesh of the other man's thigh, lost in the unbearable urge to fuck. 

_Take him. He'll never know the difference. Go on, do it. Fuck him._

"No," he whispered, terrified at the voice in his head, a voice that sounded eerily similar to his own. His body was at war with his rational mind. The craving to commit an unspeakable act emerged just beneath his skin, almost sizzling with a desperate need to violate the young man beside him. He buried his face in Quatre's hair, the bewitching scent of him luring the beast even more and crumbling his resolve. He squeezed his eyes shut, his fingers curling into his palms, nails digging into the skin as he frantically tried to get himself under control. He knew if he did the unthinkable, he would never be able to forgive himself. He'd never be able to look any of them in the eye again, especially Quatre. Especially himself. His muscles were coiled with tension, fighting with all his strength and will against the impulse to do what he knew he would regret for the rest of his life.

_Don't be a pussy. He's right here. He's all yours and ripe for the taking. Let go of your ridiculous human delusions of morality. Deep down, you're still a primate. You're still an animal and animals take what they want without conscience. Fuck him! Fuck -_

" _No_ ," he hissed, forcing himself to pull away. He crawled off the bed, stumbling on shaky legs as he struggled to get to the bathroom. He slammed the door behind him and locked it, glancing down at the angry red and straining arch of his cock. He wrapped a trembling hand around it and tugged roughly, his mind conjuring up the physical memories of feeling Quatre beneath him. The exquisite bliss of sinking into that sweet body and witnessing the unbridled pleasure on his love's face. It took less than a minute to climax and he aimed his pulsing cock towards the toilet, breathing hard through his nose to stop the groans from giving him away.

He collapsed onto the toilet, huffing as he came down from his high. He felt hot and flushed, lifting a shaking hand to rub at his damp forehead before carding his fingers through his hair. He was weak with relief, painfully aware of how close he'd come to committing a deplorable act and grateful that he was able to restrain himself. The creature within quieted down, his second orgasm allowing his mind to take command once again. But he was under no illusions that it wouldn't come back. Whatever this was, it was strong, powerful, and extremely dangerous. 

He could only pray that he would be able to reign it in the next time it tried to take over. 

He finally got his bearings about him and stood up, flushing the toilet to remove all traces of his wank and washed his hands. He glanced up, examining his appearance in the mirror, looking for any outward signs that he had changed and finding none. He looked exactly the same as he had before this strange occurrence and he didn't know if that was more, or less disturbing. 

_Maybe this being inside me has always been there. Maybe it's a part of me that was dormant and sex with Quatre woke it up._

He didn't know and that was probably his most pressing question that he wanted answered, urgent with the need to know if he was really a monster. 

_Or maybe Quatre is the monster and you just got a taste of it._

He shook his head at his reflection, his eyes hardening. "No. That's not possible. That wasn't Quatre. That was something else and it's not just in me. It's in all of us. I could see it in their eyes just like they saw it in mine."

He bent down and splashed cold water on his face, the shock of the frigid temperature bring reality back full circle. He felt much clearer now, in complete control. 

_Yes, but for how long?_

He pulled away from the counter and swung the door open, refusing to address that for the moment. He located his clothing and dressed as quietly as he could, his eyes drawn to the blond still curled on the bed in the exact same position he was in when Trowa left him. His heart skipped as another terrifying thought crossed his mind. He'd put Quatre to sleep with a mere thought. A mental command. It was something he'd never done before. Something he was never _capable_ of doing before. 

What if he'd permanently harmed Quatre's mind? What if he'd inadvertently put him into a coma? Would he be able to reverse it? Would they even be able to wake him up? What if Quatre never woke up again, or woke up with amnesia, or some kind of brain damage?

He sucked in a harsh breath, overcome with the horrifying possibilities. How could he be sure he wouldn't cause irrevocable harm to someone? He didn't know the scale, or the depth of his newfound ability. He didn't know how to wield, or control it, especially when he was emotionally compromised. 

He stepped towards the bed and looked down at the blond, still dead to the world. He attempted a gentle probe, just lightly touching the sleeping man's mind, not enough to influence it, but testing the give. He slid inside with relative ease and carefully maneuvered his consciousness around, trying to figure out how far under Quatre was. He could find nothing dangerous, or out of the ordinary. Just a deep sleep. But to make sure, he pushed a little harder, a mental caress, carefully willing him to move and was surprised when Quatre suddenly rolled over with a soft murmur and then settled back down. 

He breathed a sigh of relief and leaned down to press a soft kiss against his love's forehead. The blond's scent drifted across his nose, stirring the entity within him, but he maintained control with relative ease. He straightened up and gazed down at the man who meant more to him than the universe itself, then turned and left the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

 

***

 

"There you are! And here I thought you'd joined Quat in Lala Land, or the two of you were doing the fricky fracky again," Duo quipped. He was sitting on the floor in front of the couch with his legs stretched out beneath the coffee table. There was a large platter of pastries on the table and Trowa watched him munch on a cruller which left the corners of his mouth crusted with sugary glaze. 

"If they were having sex, you would have heard them, Duo," Heero pointed out from his spot on the couch. He glanced up briefly from his laptop that was opened across his legs and frowned at the braided man's loud chewing.

"Naw," Duo said. "Not if they were bein' all stealth-like and such." He grinned and held the platter of sweets up. "Doughnut?"

Trowa's stomach flipped over and he politely declined. He looked over at the television when he heard music and absently watched a trumpet playing cartoon dog lead a marching band of equally silly looking animals. 

"So?"

He glanced back at Duo. "So what?"

"Were you doin' the dirty?"

"Why are you so nosy?"

"When has he ever not been nosy?" Wufei snorted. The Chinese man was seated on an easy chair with one leg curled up beneath him. He raised his teacup to his mouth, but his black eyes were sharp, studying Trowa with unnerving intensity. He shifted in discomfort knowing Wufei was reading him like an open book. He knew his friend sensed his trepidation, not only because it was obvious, but also through their strange new connection. His skin prickled, goosebumps breaking out all over his body when he felt the distinct, but subtle probing of his mind. "You alright?"

He dismissed the inquiry with a shrug of his shoulder and turned towards the kitchen in search of a hot cup of coffee. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." He really wasn't, but he didn't want to talk about it at the moment. Wufei picked that up and backed off. Trowa stumbled a little as the presence abruptly retreated, leaving him feeling a little faint and nauseous. He shook his head to rid it of the cobwebs, holding the wall for support. 

"Sorry," came Wufei's soft murmur. 

He nodded and continued on, scaling the wall to keep his balance. His head finally cleared as he reached the kitchen and he reeled with the knowledge that this was something Quatre probably had to deal with every day of his life. He was overcome with a deep respect for the blond man, not knowing how in the hell he managed it without losing his mind. He poured some coffee into the mug and stared out the window as he sipped it, for once welcoming the scalding heat on his tongue. It served as a distraction, taking his mind off the current situation even if only for a short while. He closed his eyes and took deep calming breaths, feeling the artificial breeze brush against his face. It was gentle, pleasant, reminding him of a warm summer night on earth. 

He returned to the living room after drinking half the mug of coffee, his mind swimming with questions and eager to find out if Heero had any ideas, or thoughts, or perhaps some accounts of similar occurrences happening to other people. 

He stepped around Duo and pushed Heero's sprawled legs out of his way so he could sit down. He stared at the Japanese man with what he was sure was an expectant expression. Heero was intently focused on his screen and the faint tapping of his fingers on the keys were the only sounds in the room with the exception of the television. Trowa didn't want to break his concentration and instead, poked the man's mind, looking for answers. 

He knew he'd been caught when Heero's blue eyes darted up and met his own. He blushed and looked away, opting to stare at the TV instead though he wasn't interested in watching it. "Sorry," he mumbled and sipped his coffee. 

It was quiet for a few minutes, then the click of the keyboard resumed. "I haven't found anything yet."

He nodded absently and took another sip of his coffee. "Any theories?"

Heero didn't answer right away and Trowa thought he wasn't going to. There was a soft sigh and then, "I wouldn't call them theories. More like guesses that are probably out of left field."

"Tell me anyway," he murmured. His heart was thumping fast and hard, but he kept his eyes on the television screen. The clicking stopped again followed by a long pause.

"While I haven't found any stories about Newtype abilities branching out and affecting their intimate partners, that doesn't mean there aren't any. I'm going to keep searching."

Trowa nodded again. "Okay."

"If this has happened before, it would give us a better idea of what we're dealing with."

Wufei set his teacup down and rested his elbows on his knees. "What if it hasn't?"

Heero shrugged and reached for a doughnut. "If it hasn't then we're on our own, obviously." He took a bite and chewed it slowly, methodically, his eyes staring into middle distance. "It could be anything really. Maybe Quatre was just in a specific state of mind when this happened which allowed him to expand his abilities. Maybe we were all in a specific state of mind ourselves, open to suggestion...who knows? It might have just been some weird quirk of nature that opened up our brains enough for him to channel his empathy into us."

Duo spun around on his butt and shot Heero a derisive look. "This sounds like some serious Twilight Zone shit." He wiggled his fingers in front of his face. "Do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do," he sang in a creepy falsetto. 

"Don't ever do that again, Maxwell," Wufei muttered.

Duo smirked at him. "What? You scared?"

Wufei scoffed. "Not likely." 

"But seriously, though. That is out there. Like far out, man."

"This whole thing is "out there"," Trowa informed him. "What Heero's suggesting doesn't sound that strange considering the circumstances."

"And if I'm right, then this means..." Heero trailed off, looking lost in thought. 

Duo waved his hand in front of the man's face. "Hello? L4 to Heero. This means what?"

He jerked out of his trance and shook his head. "I'm not sure what it means yet."

"Are you saying something supernatural happened?" Duo asked then glared when Wufei snorted. 

"There's no such thing as the supernatural, Duo," Heero said, his voice edgy with condescension. "There's a natural explanation for everything. Just because we haven't found it yet doesn't mean some magical thing happened. There's always a reason."

"Yeah, but...how do you explain Newtypes?" Duo asked, bringing his knee up to his chest and resting his elbow on it. "I mean, a lot of people think Newtypes are magical. A lot of people believe they're demons, or something." 

"Newtypes are not mystical creatures, Duo."

Trowa cocked his head, suddenly unsure about that. "Are you sure?"

Heero looked at him as though he was questioning Trowa's sanity. "Are you serious? Of course I'm sure!"

"But _how_ are you sure?"

He balked for a moment and then pinched the bridge of his nose with an irritated sigh. "Newtypes are the way they are because they're able to use more of their brains than the average human. It's as simple as that. It's evolution. The next biological step of our species being born in outer space. That's all."

"Hmmm," Duo chewed his lip. "That's the leading theory, but it's never been proven."

Heero dismissed that with a wave of a hand. "It will be someday, I'm sure."

Trowa shifted until he was facing the other man. "But the brain scans of Newtypes show nothing significantly different than a normal human's brain."

"They just haven't found the right place to look yet. Or maybe we haven't developed sensitive enough technology to see it."

"Or maybe, just maybe there's something else going on. Something that can't be explained with a brain scan, or a brain autopsy, or whatever," Duo suggested. 

Trowa watched Heero closely, sensing the man's stubborn refusal to believe anything that wasn't scientifically plausible. "It is possible, Heero," he pressed. "You know it is."

Wufei threw up his hands. "What's possible? What are we even talking about here?"

"We're not talking about anything," Heero barked. "Nothing supernatural happened. It doesn't exist."

Duo propped his chin on his fist. "So how can I read your mind right now?"

He pressed his lips together, a deep frown knitting his brows together. "I don't know. But I think it's safe to say we all have this ability now. Whether or not it's permanent remains to be seen. It could just wear off like the effects of a drug."

"God, I hope so," Wufei muttered, leaning back in his chair. "I do not want to live like this. I don't need you guys in my head all damned day and night. I don't know how Winner does it."

"Because he was born that way," Heero said. "He doesn't know anything different."

"Do you think he was aware of what he was doing? I mean, while it was happening?"

Trowa shook his head. "I doubt it. I don't think he realized it until halfway through and I'm sure he had no idea that his abilities had been channeled into us."

"He figured out something had changed after Hee-chan fucked him," Duo reminded them and glanced at Wufei. "Remember? He said as much right before you had sex with him."

Trowa leaned his head on his fist. "But...what about this possessiveness?" He looked around at each of them. "I can feel coming off of all of you in waves. Like heat." He pressed his fingers against his temple and rubbed in a circular motion. "And I -" he paused, remembering the horrific act he'd almost committed and flushed with shame.

Duo's eyes widened as he caught it, his mouth dropping open in shock. "Tro! You didn't!"

" _No_ ," he snapped, his face flaming. "No, I didn't," he repeated in a softer tone. "But...it was like some _thing_ was inside me, egging me on." He swallowed around a growing lump in his throat and blinked back the sting of tears. "I felt like I was out of control and it - it scared the shit out of me." He turned imploring eyes on Heero, begging him to understand. "I could never hurt him. It would kill me." His voice hitched with emotion. "I'm so scared I'm going to hurt him."

"But you stopped yourself," Wufei said firmly. 

"But what if I can't stop myself the next time? What if you can't stop yourselves? Heero, we have to get to the bottom of this."

"I know," Heero reassured him in a gentle tone. "And we will. I just need a little time. But...for now, I think it's safe to say we should not be around him when we're feeling...edgy."

Duo snorted. "Edgy. Just say horny, man." 

"You know what I mean," Heero glared. "Perhaps we should avoid him altogether until we know what's going on."

Trowa's heart broke at that, but deep down he knew Heero was right. For Quatre's own safety, it was probably the best thing they could do to prevent something they would all hate themselves for. He looked up and saw similar expressions of disappointment on his friends' faces and realized they didn't want to be away from Quatre any more than he did. 

"Man, this sucks ass," Duo sulked, picking at the glaze on a doughnut. 

"What sucks ass?" 

They froze as a soft, unmistakable voice joined the conversation and slowly looked towards the entrance to the hallway where Quatre was now standing. He'd donned an over sized t-shirt that reached just below his upper thighs, barely concealing his groin. His hair was rumpled and his bright blue eyes were bleary with sleep as he blinked at them with a mixture of confusion and curiosity. His slender legs were crossed at the ankle, inviting the other four to stare at them, the tempting sight of creamy smooth skin awakening arousal within them all. Embarrassed at their apparent adolescent libidos, they blushed and averted their eyes. 

Duo cleared his throat, his mouth ticking up at the corners in a forced smile. "Hey, Kitty-Quat. Sleep well?"

Quatre's eyes were dubious, his face turned down into a slight frown. "I did, thanks to you." His gaze landed on his best friend with hawk-eyed sharpness. Trowa felt the press inside his mind and flushed, lowering his head with guilt.

"I'm so sorry, Quat."

The blond lifted his chin, his expression stony and hard, eyes piercing. The atmosphere in the living room became tense as it was filled with awkward silence. There was only the muted sounds of voices and music coming from the TV. After several minutes, Duo cleared his throat again and lifted the plate of pastries. "Doughnut?"


	4. Into Temptation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okey-dokey. So this has turned into an A/B/O, only without the B. I can officially tick another fandom cliche off my list. Now all I need to write is a vampire AU and a high school AU and I can consider myself full circle. xD
> 
> I'm going to attempt not to make this too cliched, or at least avoid certain A/B/O tropes such as mpreg, knotting, etc. This is not a creature fic. No, they are not wolves, or werewolves. No animal transformations, alter egos, or shape shifting. They are, always have been, and always will be human.
> 
> This chapter is a little kinky (maybe a lot depending on how you swing). Rimming (not graphic), brief mention of noncon, implied rough sex, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera...

Quatre stared at the plate of doughnuts, then lifted his gaze to Duo's smiling face. It was the kind of smile he often wore when he drank all of Quatre's milk, emptied the cookie jar, used up all the gas in Quatre's car without refilling the tank, or was caught leaving wet towels on the bathroom floor. It was a transparent attempt to appear innocent even when he knew he was busted. 

Quatre crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the doorway. "I don't know why you even bother."

Duo tried for hopelessly confused and failed miserably. "Bother with what?"

He waved his hand in a vague gesture. "This! This - this innocent act. It doesn't work on me. It never did."

Duo pouted and set the plate down with a shrug. "Can't blame a guy for tryin'." He picked up a glazed jelly doughnut and turned it between his fingers as if it would entice the blond man. "Look, raspberry. Your favorite."

"How in the hell did you even find the time to go get doughnuts? How long have I been asleep?" He glanced over at the clock above the television and answered his own question, his eyes widening in shock. "What the - _eleven thirty?_ " He turned towards Trowa, his expression horrified. "You put me to sleep for three hours?"

Trowa's mouth gaped, desperate to soothe the agitated young man, but finding no words that would exonerate him from his conduct. 

Duo did it for him. "Heh. Not too shabby for a first timer, eh Quat? Shit, we could rent him out as a safe and effective way to cure insomnia."

"This is not funny, Duo!"

Duo's hands flew up in surrender. "Okay, okay. Sorry. Just tryin' to lighten the mood, y'dig?"

"No, I don't "dig". What the hell is going on?"

Heero leaned back against the couch cushions and folded his arms, wearing his best stern, professor expression. "We were hoping you could explain that to us."

Quatre's face was so incredulous, Duo blurted out a semi aborted laugh and then blushed when he became the recipient of angry glares. 

"How would I know?"

Wufei set his teacup down a little too hard and slouched forward. "How would you know? How couldn't you know? You're the empath. Explain."

Quatre sputtered, his arms swinging around helplessly. "I have no idea!"

"Having sex with you did this to us, Winner. What happened?"

"I - I didn't think it went both ways. I didn't think that was possible. I knew I could feel all of you, but I didn't know that you would somehow - I don't know what happened," he finished, shoulders slumping in defeat. His head was spinning a little with a sensation resembling a heavy weight pressing down onto his skull from the outside as well as within, pushing outward like a centrifugal force. An image of a drill appeared in his mind's eye and it took a few moments for the rest of his brain to catch up. He stumbled a few steps back, hands lifting to clutch his head as he clenched his teeth and snarled, "Get out of my head!"

The four presences were still there, but two had abated a little and he identified their signatures as Trowa and Duo. Heero and Wufei pressed on, searching for truth, for answers, for a solution. The result left him feeling as though several hot pokers were being shoved through his skull. "Stop it! It - _fuck!_ It hurts."

At the mention of pain, the four minds instantly retreated as if burned and it caused Quatre's ears to pop as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. He could feel their guilt, palpable despite the throbbing in his temples. Their intention had not been to hurt him and at the first sign that they were, they immediately pulled back. He felt woozy, waterlogged and his knees buckled as his strength ebbed from their sudden departure. He lowered himself to his haunches as carefully as he could and dipped his head down, trying to gather his bearings. He sensed Trowa's approach, reeling at how much stronger the connection was. Trowa crouched down beside him and raised a hand to comfort.

"Don't touch me."

The hand disappeared, the mind it belonged to stinging with rejection and Quatre felt terrible for snapping at him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean - I just...I'm so confused right now."

"Join the club, baby," Duo muttered and froze, surprised that he'd tacked on the pet name without even thinking about it. 

"Quatre."

Heero's voice reached his ears, the slightly nasally tone felt like a caress, a little ticklish, as if he was right there with his mouth against his ear. Quatre twitched, but didn't look up. Goosebumps broke out across his skin and it seemed as though the voice had taken on a physical life of its own, wrapping around him like tendrils of pure energy and holding him tight. He pressed a hand to his forehead, feeling disoriented and perplexed at the strange and disturbing way his body responded.

" _Quatre_."

Now there was a deep, almost dark quality to his voice. Reminiscent of his days as their commander during the wars, but laced with something he'd never heard before. And for some reason that he couldn't figure out, his head lifted of its own volition and he looked towards the couch where blue eyes were zeroed in on him with unnerving intensity. Nothing more was said, at least verbally, but Quatre heard, or rather felt the command. It was hard to describe the feeling, but it started in his mind and seemed to spread with every beat of his heart like the blood in his veins. It was like wisps of smoke, or vapor that seeped through his pores, penetrating through his muscles, and curling around his bones. Before he was even aware of what he was doing, or could even find the wherewithal to wonder when he'd given his body the signal to move, he got up and took carefully measured steps across the carpet towards the man who seemed to be in control of him.

Even more frightening was the way that show of dominance, the empathetic command, and his subsequent obedience ignited an uncontrollable need to submit. It manifested as a fully body flush and a dizzying throb between his legs. Some traitorous part of his brain was screaming at him to drop to the floor, spread his thighs, and offer himself like a cheap whore and it took every ounce of self control he had to refrain from doing just that. The desire to be taken again made him breathless and weak. There was a flood of warmth and what felt like an excessive amount of wetness seeping from his opening and his first terrifying thought was that he was bleeding.

He discreetly reached behind himself and quickly swiped a finger between his buttocks to make sure before he stained the expensive fabric of his couch. He encountered an abundance of slick moisture, the consistency very similar to the lube his friends had used when they made love to him. When he brought his hand back around, his finger tip was coated with a clear substance and there were no traces of blood. 

His heart pounded erratically, desperately trying to make sense of all this in the haze of confusion and the deep craving for penetration. He tried to remain outwardly calm though he knew that they knew he was freaking out on the inside. He gingerly lowered himself onto the couch, wincing a little as the wetness all over his backside was now no doubt soaking into his sofa. He checked off an absurd mental note to have it cleaned as soon as possible and folded his hands demurely into this lap.

The room was oddly silent and he chanced a glance up, immediately wishing he hadn't. Four pairs of eyes were leveled on him in a way that could only be described as predatory. Their nostrils flared as they sniffed the air and he suddenly felt like a gazelle trapped in a den of lions. He stiffened as he watched them move with slow, calculating intent, their eyes nearly eclipsed by their pupils. He realized with startled clarity that they could smell the wetness between his legs and from the looks of it, the scent seemed to spark something within them, something lust didn't even begin to describe. 

He raised his hands in from of him in a placating gesture and didn't miss the tremor in them. "Okay, guys...guys! I don't know what's happening here, but -" He yelped when Trowa lunged for him, wrapping iron-like fingers around his arm and he flailed as he was yanked off the couch. He tumbled to the floor, trembling and scared as they surrounded him. The fear, which normally would have caused him to retaliate, or at least make a run for safety, instead forced him to remain where he was. The conflicting emotions that swirled around in his head, the rational part of him that was begging them not to hurt him and simultaneously reassuring him that they were his friends and would never do such a thing, were drowned out by waves of overwhelming need to subjugate himself before them. His body twitched, caught in a strange realm of limbo, not knowing what to do.

His t-shirt had rode up over his backside in his fall from the couch, baring his ass and making him feel painfully vulnerable. When he reached for the hem to cover himself, a series of low growls forced him to abort the attempt. He had no idea what was going to happen, but he was reasonably sure he was about to get fucked again and he found he wasn't exactly opposed to that. He huffed shallow breaths into the carpet, his voice shaky as he tried to appeal to the logical sides of the men he'd known and trusted for years.

"Look, just please, please...whatever you're going to do - Hey!" He shouted and hissed as a hand fisted into the back of his t-shirt and pulled so hard, the fabric ripped at the seams and the violence of the act caused an involuntary whimper and another flood of moisture to collect between his thighs. He was deeply self-conscious about the fact that there was so much of it. It leaked down his perineum, over his balls, and dripped onto the floor beneath him. 

There was a tiny voice somewhere in his mind that got louder as he sensed the dangerous ardor emanating from his friends in powerful waves, peaking higher and higher as the wetness in and around his opening continued to increase. 

_Why are you fighting it? This is what you want. It's what you need. It's what you were born for. Your body knows what to do. It's always known, it was just waiting for the rest of you to catch up. Let it do what it was made to do and just let...go..._

He shivered as calloused hands stroked over his back, thighs and ass, quickly followed by ravenous lips and teeth. His breath hitched as his buttocks were parted and the men above him were pulled in deeper by the erotic sight and scent of what lay between. Their responses were raw and darkly carnal. He finally surrendered when his thighs were wrenched open and Trowa buried his face between the cheeks of his ass, indulging himself in the first taste of sweet, wet submission.

 

***

 

It had been hours since the last of the artificial sunlight of L4 faded to dark. Trowa lifted his face from the warm crown of Quatre's head and glanced over at the clock, taking note that it was well past midnight. Quatre had been passed out in his arms for nearly an hour. The four of them had, in all honestly, ravished the blond until he lost consciousness from exhaustion. The blame initially was focused on him after Quatre failed to respond to their attempts to rouse him beyond sleepily batting them away with his hands and a few slurred Arabic curses, but Trowa vehemently defended himself as this time, he was not responsible for it. 

Actually, that wasn't true. They were all responsible, if for no other reason than they'd fucked him into oblivion. Again. Once the haze of overpowering desire was satiated inside Quatre's body, numb shock set in. They stood over him, looking down at the limp and sprawled form on the living room floor, their eyes drawn to the multiple bite marks, come, and glistening lubrication that was left behind on and between the cheeks of his still slightly upturned ass. He looked thoroughly debauched, his creamy skin desecrated by the evidence of their sexual prowess. It was a vision that would both haunt and tantalize them for many sleepless nights to come. 

The only thing they could think of to do was proceed with tender aftercare. They gently cleaned him and closed his legs before wrapping a large throw around him and laying him on the couch where he slept deeply and seemingly contentedly against Trowa's chest, safe in his little cocoon.

There was a deep, troubling silence that followed as each of them were deep in thought. They were all confused and deeply worried, even a little scared after what they'd done and the apparent lack of control they seemed to have where Quatre was now concerned. 

Wufei was back in his armchair, fully dressed again though his clothes were rumpled after nearly tearing them off in his feverish arousal and tossing them into a careless heap. He sat with his elbows on his knees and his face buried in his hands. Trowa could hear his breaths as they puffed against his palms and between his fingers. 

"I've never lost control of myself like that. Ever," he murmured, his voice muffled, but edged with trepidation and regret.

Trowa ran his fingers through his hair and dropped his arm onto the back of the couch with a thump. "None of us have. This is..." He twirled his hand, searching for the right word.

"Unprecedented," Heero finished for him. He was back on the other end of the couch wearing only his jeans and typing away on his laptop.

Trowa nodded and pressed a kiss to the blond hair that stuck up in places and tickled his chin. Unprecedented was definitely accurate. The need he'd felt, just as before, had simply taken control and he was helpless to stop it. The only solace he had was the fact that Quatre had seemed to enjoy it.

"Of course he enjoyed it," Duo snorted, flinging his hair tie onto the coffee table. He separated the pleats of his braid and finger-brushed the tangled locks. "We only made him come five times. I don't know how a dude can come five times. That should be impossible."

"And that's not counting the two times he did during our last round," Wufei pointed out, momentarily lifting his head before ducking it back down again.

"Yeah, so that makes seven total in just..." Duo glanced at the clock. "Six and a half hours. I mean, shit, guys. That's unheard of, isn't it?"

"As far as I know," Trowa agreed, resting his cheek on top of Quatre's head. 

"And...dude, he was _wet!_ Like - like chick wet, y'know? More than that even. And I could _smell_ it." His mind conjured up the memories of prying apart soft cheeks and delving in between to lap up the fluid with his tongue, the first taste making him ravenous for more. He'd gorged himself on it like a man starved, Quatre's soft cries like music to his ears and still the blond kept producing more as if he had a never-ending supply of the stuff hidden inside his body. Even an hour later, he could taste the sweet, almost sugary flavor and thought he'd never get enough of it for as long as he lived. He was hooked. A man addicted.

The only thing that prevented him from dying of embarrassment over his gluttonous display was the fact that he'd watched the other three do the exact same thing. "The few times I fooled around with Hilde, she was never that wet, or tasted so -"

"We get it, Maxwell. Please do not continue."

"Jus' sayin'. How is that even possible?" Duo shook his hair out and flipped it over his shoulder as he glanced up at Heero. "What say you, professor?"

Heero stopped typing, but didn't look up from the screen. "I'm not sure yet. Something strange though. When I searched "self lubricating males", there were no results." He paused, his brows knitting together with something resembling distaste. "Nothing relevant anyway. But...I decided to try the Dark Web and...it's weird but there are over a dozen direct hits and a few hundred similar ones. Only, when I try clicking on them, I keep hitting encrypted firewalls."

Duo popped a cheese ball into his mouth and munched loudly on it. "So? When has that ever been a problem for you? Hack that shit, bro."

"I've already got my program scanning it. It looks like - ah, here we go. It's an asymmetric encryption. My program is looking for the decryption key." He tapped his fingers next to the touchpad as he waited for the results to come back then shook his head with a sigh of frustration. "Damn. It's hidden somewhere. It might take me a little time to find it. There also appears to be a hashing encryption."

"What's that for?" Duo asked.

"A hashing encryption essentially protects passwords which helps to protect the people who have access to the site. Only certain people are allowed in and whoever is writing the codes wants to make sure the users remain anonymous to anyone looking in from the outside."

Duo grimaced and looked over at Trowa. "Sounds like some shady shit. Watch it, Hee-chan. You don't want to end up on some kiddie porn site."

"It's not a kiddie porn site, Duo."

"How do you know?"

"Because I can see some of the encrypted content even though I can't really translate it, or put it into context."

Trowa lifted his head and stared at Heero. "So what does it say?"

"I can't..." Heero squinted at the screen and then typed in a few keys. "It doesn't make any sense. Something about an underground organization...and...Newtypes. Something about omegas...I don't know."

"Newtype kiddie porn in a fraternity?"

"Maxwell, would you shut the fuck up about kiddie porn?"

"What? I'm just saying, Heero should be careful. It _is_ the Dark Web. That's where the bad shit happens."

"Yes, there is bad shit on the Dark Web, Duo, but it's not all malicious," Trowa informed him.

"But it's illegal. Hence why people use it when they don't want to get caught."

"It also exists to protect top secret information like code sequences to nuclear missiles, international security, and intelligence that the world governments don't want getting out."

"I thought there were separate private servers for that kind of thing," Wufei said.

"There are, but the info still travels through cyberspace. There's no stopping that. It's safer, but it's not infallible."

Duo yawned and leaned back onto his hands. "Yeah, that's all well and good, but I highly doubt Quat's self-lubricating ass has anything to do with nuclear missiles, intelligence leaks, or top secret government pet projects."

Heero glared at him over the top of the screen. "I know that, Duo. I was making a point."

Duo tapped his chin. "Or, maybe it does."

"What the hell are you on about, Maxwell?"

"No, just hear me out. Maybe the governments of the world are hiding the secrets of alien technology. Like...maybe they actually have a spaceship, or something. Remember the old stories about Roswell, New Mexico?"

Trowa pinched the bridge of his nose and huffed in annoyance. Duo's conspiracy theories were about as off the wall as Dorothy Catalonia's delusions of grandeur. Maybe even more so. "Duo, that's just folklore. An urban legend."

"Ah, but see. That's just what they want us to think. Maybe they're abducting guys and doing the whole anal probe thing." He was met with a round of derisive looks. "Oh, come on! It could be true. But maybe like, the twist is, the guys that come back have this - this ability to -"

"Quatre's sudden "ability" to self-lubricate has nothing to do with aliens, Duo. Jesus Christ."

Duo looked dejected and mumbled, "It could."

"Maxwell, if anyone was abducted by aliens, it was you. And they wound up lobotomizing you, obviously."

Wufei dodged to the left as a well-aimed throw pillow was flung in his direction. "Fuck off, Chang."

He grabbed his teacup and saucer and stood up. "Either way, it's not safe to be around Win - Quatre right now. He may have consented this time, even enjoyed it, but what happens when we're all in that state of mind again and he says no?" He watched the other three men shift in discomfort and nodded. "Exactly. I don't know about you, but I am not okay with committing rape and I sure as hell don't want to feel it through this connection, or whatever it is if one of you decide to."

"None of us are okay with that, Wufei," Trowa said, which was true enough, but the memory of coming so close to having sex with Quatre while the blond was unconscious made him flush with shame.

"We may not be okay with it, but you came close. We appear to have very little control over ourselves, at least right now."

"Amen, brother." Duo reached for his shirt and pulled it over his head. "I hate to say it, but Fei's right. I don't want that shit hangin' over me. Maybe distancing ourselves is the only way to keep it under control."

"And what if it doesn't?" Trowa asked. 

"If it doesn't, then we'll cross that bridge then and there. At least we'll be far enough away from him that we won't be able to do anything we'd regret," Heero said.

"And what if we end up attacking someone else because we can't get to him?"

Duo flopped down onto his back with a loud groan. "Damn it, Tro. Why do you have to be such a buzzkill?"

 

***

 

"Heero's writing a note."

Trowa turned from his task of tucking Quatre into his bed, looking abjectly miserable as he faced his friend. "This feels shitty."

"I know, man. I hate to think he's gonna wake up after getting gangbanged and -" he shrugged when Trowa's eyes hardened. "S'what we did. No point in sugarcoating it. He got fucked eight times in the span of seven hours, dude."

"All the more reason to hate us when he wakes up and finds us all gone."

"It's better than attacking him again when he wakes up. Look, he's smart enough to figure it out and anyway, Heero's note explains why we're leaving the way we are. He'll understand."

"What if he doesn't?" That was something Trowa was not prepared for. The last thing in the world he wanted was for Quatre to hate him. To never want to see him again. He wasn't sure he could survive that.

"He will. You gotta give him a little credit, man. Hell, he'll probably be relieved to not have four dudes drooling and humping all over him. I can't imagine how sore he's gonna be."

Trowa cringed at the thought of Quatre waking up, not only to find them all gone with nothing but a note in their wake, but also in pain. He felt wretched for leaving him like this, but Duo was right. They were never going to figure anything out if their judgment was constantly clouded by lust and if they continued jumping on Quatre the way they did, they might accidentally cause an injury. The blond needed time to rest and recuperate. He blew out a sigh and nodded in agreement, reaching down to gently brush locks of flaxen hair from Quatre's brow. "I know you're right. And he's not injured by the way. I checked him...down there. There's no tearing, or bruising." Which was amazing considering how many times they'd taken him and how rough they'd been. 

"I don't even get that," Duo murmured. "You'd think...never mind. It doesn't matter. The important thing is he's fine. And hey, don't beat yourself up too much, okay? I know we all feel bad, but you know as well as I do how much he was loving it."

"Do you think we're going to figure out what this is?"

"I hope so, buddy. To be honest, I don't know how I'm going to cope if I get like that again. It scares me."

"Me, too. I was thinking. Maybe we should set up some kind of support protocol. You know, just in case it happens again?"

Duo nodded. "I'm listening."

"If any, or all of us end up in that state of mind again, we'll contact each other. Maybe we'll be able to talk each other down until we're under control again."

"That's a good idea. That is, considering we'll be able to wrangle our wits together long enough to make the call," Duo said, rubbing his chin in contemplation. "I mean, we're not exactly rational when it happens. It might not even occur to us at the time."

"Well, it's worth a shot anyway. The least we can do is try. And if it works, we just might be able to prevent something terrible from happening."

"Maybe we should just chain ourselves to a chair in a locked room whenever there's a full moon. Just in case."

Trowa snickered despite the anxiety churning in his belly. "I'm pretty sure we're not werewolves, Duo. But I'll give you props for imagination."

"Eh, you know me. I'm a never say never kind of guy. C'mon, we should go and let him rest. We can figure out what we're going to do in the car."

"You guys have to drop me off at the cafe so that I can pick up my rental."

"Yeah, no problem. Fei's driving so you'll have to tell him. He took the keys from me. Said he wasn't in the mood to flirt with death today," Duo snorted. "Pussy."

Trowa nodded and bent down to press a kiss to Quatre's temple, whispering against his ear, "Please forgive us. We're doing this because we all love you and we don't want to hurt you. I love you. So damn much. Give us a little time to figure out what's going on and hopefully we'll be able to see you soon. Sleep well, baby." He kissed him again and then moved away, watching Duo lean down to do the same.

"Sleep tight, kitten. We'll get this figured out, man. Till then, take care of yourself and we'll be in touch. When we come back, I expect your freezer to be well stocked with Ben and Jerry's."

He abruptly stood and hurriedly walked away with a heated curse. "God fucking damn it, he smells so good."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this cluster fuck of a chapter. xD If any of you are following Sensus Divinitatis and/or Incendiary, I plan on updating those next. Thanks for reading! ^_^


	5. Doctor's Orders

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait. Hope you like. Some brother and sister bickering and awkwardness for you. ~.^

_Saturday, December 13th, 201, 5:49am. Colony L4 X1339, Ninth District…_

 

Sensations, exposing and erotic, vulnerable like nothing he’d ever experienced before. A deep, overwhelming rush of possessiveness penetrating through his pores like prisms of sunlight through a window in the late afternoon. It wasn’t his own. It came from someone, or something outside of himself, but within this dark abyss, faces and names escaped him.

But only for a brief moment. As if on cue...as if conjured by the mere recollection of what had unfolded, the identities of the four men rolled out from inside his subconscious like waves licking along the shore. One, two, three, four…

Seduction had occurred, but something even more profound after that.

Dominance.

Beseeching, in his own voice, seeking what? Absolution? Perhaps that was it. Though, it was followed by frequent peaks of ecstasy. Mindless pleasure, the kind that enveloped the brain in a searing, white hot light. The kind where you forgot to think, forgot to breathe, forgot to _be_. The peaks were almost infinitesimal, one rolling into the next in an endless loop with little time for plateau in between.

There was fluid. An abundance of fluid, coming from a place it should not have been. Scent, sweet like sugar, catching the olfactory senses of his four lovers, luring them in like a pack of starving wolves slapped across the snout with a slab of prime rib.

They controlled him through telepathic commands and went at him with no inhibitions, no reservations. They pinned him to the floor of his own living room and buried their faces between the cheeks of his ass, lapping up the strange substance as if they were drinking from a refreshing oasis after days in the desert.

The pleasure had been indescribable and he’d shot off like a rocket within mere seconds, weeping into the carpet as the stimulation never let up. It only seemed to make them hungry for more and the more they consumed, the more he produced.

It invigorated them, filled their blood like an aphrodisiac, like life-giving sustenance, obsessed with how wet he was and trying with terrifying desperation to ingest as much as possible.

They pushed into him with fingers and cocks, pressing their weight down onto his shoulder blades until the air whooshed out of his lungs and he was unable to do anything aside from whimper and orgasm. And orgasm he did. Over and over and over again until he passed out from exhaustion.

What happened after that was anyone’s guess. Did they continue their carnal activities even after he lost consciousness, or did they come to their senses? Were they shocked? Were they appalled? Repulsed? Or did it stoke the dark, ravaging fires within them?

There was no telling at this point either way. The sex they’d had that he was aware of was more than enough to explain the stiffness and soreness of his body.

He rolled over onto his back with a pained groan and blinked up at the ceiling with eyes that felt like sandpaper. His body throbbed and complained, the loudest of which lingered between his legs. He felt as though he’d been shoved through an industrial press, not even the snippets of fuzzy memories enough to get more than a pathetic twitch out of his cock.

“Jesus. If I never get hard again, it’ll be too soon.”

He wiggled an arm beneath himself and tentatively felt around, the tips of his fingers gently checking for any damage, relieved when there seemed to be no tearing. There was just a residual soreness as opposed to acute pain which would indicate an injury. He was also dry as a bone with the exception of the slight gumminess left behind from his lovers’ climaxes. No blood and no trace of that odd substance.

He slapped a weak hand over his face and rubbed eyes that felt puffy and tired. The sun, or rather, the artificial UV lights that mimicked the sun were just being lit across the colony and he didn’t have to look at the clock to know it was nearly six.

“Four hours of sleep after the fucking of several lifetimes. That’s going to bode well for me today,” he grumbled, flipping the covers down and attempting the harrowing feat of getting out of bed. It took several undignified moments of flailing on his back like an upended turtle before he finally managed to roll onto his side and scoot to the edge.

“Ow... _ouch!_ Allah help me, but if I ever see any of them again, I’m going to kick them in the nuts so hard, they’ll be singing soprano until their midlife crisis.” He eventually succeeded though it took him much longer than any spry young man of his age should have. He felt ancient, but also strangely sated if he ignored the fact that his cock felt like it had been strangled to death. He glanced down at himself, seeing nothing out of the ordinary, and pondered the wisdom of seeing a doctor.

Which made him flush red with embarrassment, the heat reaching the tops of his ears. What could he possibly tell them? The truth sounded preposterous.

Still, it was probably a good idea to get checked out. The only viable candidate was Iria, though the idea of revealing this to his sister and having her look at his privates was more humiliation than he could bear. She was still better than a complete stranger.

He debated the option of calling first, but decided against it. Best to just show up because he had no clue how to summarize the purpose of his visit to her receptionist. Conveying unusual anal discharge and a group fucking to a woman whose name he couldn’t even remember was simply not on his to-do list.

But first, he needed a shower. It was bad enough he was going to see his sister over such odd circumstances. Showing up smelling like a two cent whore who’d just peeled herself off of a come-sticky floor was not something he planned to do. Ever.

It wasn’t until he reached the bathroom that he noticed the silence of the condo, the lack of his four friends' presence and...and what? Boyfriends? Lovers? Friends with benefits? One night stands?

He poked his head into the hallway, listening for a voice, a shuffle, the clink of a glass, anything, and was only met with a quiet stillness that told him his friends were no longer there.

“So you all fuck me and run,” he murmured, stepping into the hall. “Story of my life.” He padded down until he reached the living room, a little reassured that they at least had the decency to clean up their mess first. He considered calling Trowa and demanding some answers, but decided he wasn’t quite in the mood for that yet. He still didn’t know what he was going to say to them, that was, if they even planned on talking to him again.

_Allah, when did I become such a Debbie Downer?_

He turned to head back towards his room, but a quick glance at the small table by the door had him making a quick detour. On the top of the table with the corner wedged beneath his phone cradle, there was a sheet of paper. He recognized the penmanship as Heero’s signature scrawl and picked it up, flipping on the overhead light.

_Quatre,_

_We apologize for leaving so abruptly and without letting you know first._

_As I write this, you are sleeping pretty deeply and you’re very difficult to wake up and we’re not even sure you’d remember if we did manage to wake you up long enough to tell you we’re leaving._

_I promise you, we’re not trying to run out on you after what we’ve done and yes, we will stay in contact with you and will (hopefully) see you very soon._

_The problem is, we just don’t know if we can trust ourselves around you right now after what happened. I wish I could explain our behavior, but we are at a total loss. And after the night you’ve endured, you need your rest. We didn’t want to jump all over you the moment you woke up. We were afraid of injuring you._

_Please accept our sincerest apologies. We’re only thinking of your health and safety and we hope to reconnect with you in a couple of days when you’re rested up. It is our hope that we can figure this out and prevent such a thing from happening again._

_Until then, take care of yourself. We’ll be in touch._

_Regards,_

_Heero, Duo, Trowa, and Wufei_

“Regards,” he snorted. “Why not just sign it “esquire” while you’re at it.”

_P.S. Cat, it’s Trowa. I am so so sorry for what we - what I did to you. I can’t expect you to forgive me, but I hope with time I can earn your trust and respect again. You mean the world to me and I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you that. It’s even worse that it’s in a letter instead of in person._

_I’m so sorry. I hope I can talk to you soon and see how you are. I love you, Cat._

“Allah, they all act like they raped me, or something.” From his recollection, nothing could have been further from the truth. Overwhelmed? Yes. Ravished? Yes. Did he ever once resist, or ask them to stop? Nope.

If memory served, he was pretty sure he’d slurred something along the lines of, “Oh, fuck yes,” in between drooling all over his designer carpeting. Several times in fact, with an additional variation and embellishment here and there for good measure.

In other words, he’d been a total slut for it.

He dropped the note back onto the table and shuffled back to his bathroom for a scalding shower, wondering when he’d become so easy.

 

*******

 

_Saturday, December 13th, 201, 9:14am. Colony L4 X1339, Seventh District…_

 

“Quatre! What a nice surprise. What brings you to my little neck of the woods?”

“Calm down, Iria. The colony is not that big,” he muttered. “You act like you haven’t seen me in months.”

Iria shot him a derisive look, the matronly kind that looked ironically like pity, and tugged on the opened flaps of her white lab coat. The gesture never failed to get on his nerves.

“Forgive me, little brother,” she said, though she sounded even less contrite than the time Duo hired a male stripper in leather bondage gear to infiltrate his conference with the most prominent members of the ESUN. When said stripper jumped up onto the long glass table and began to gyrate his g-string’d ass in the face of the Deputy Chief of Foreign Affairs, the poor woman nearly had a stroke and Quatre had never wanted so much for the floor to open up and swallow him whole.

After that PR disaster, Duo’s nine lives had quickly dwindled down to one and he was damn lucky Quatre hadn’t castrated both him and the stripper for that prank.

“So, what do I owe the pleasure? An impromptu lunch perhaps?”

Quatre flushed and shuffled his feet. “Er...not exactly.”

Iria’s cheerful mood vanished in an instant and in her place was her professional doctor persona. “What’s wrong, honey? Are you ill?” She pressed the back of her hand against his forehead. “You do feel a little warm.”

“I’m not sick, Iria. At least I don’t think I am.”

“Come, sit,” she said, patting the exam table that was covered in white paper which looked eerily reminiscent to the deli paper he ordered his sandwiches in. He wondered if they got that paper from the same place. “Tell the doc what’s ailing you.”

He hesitated, not thrilled in the slightest about any of this, then walked over and climbed up using the pull out step in the bottom of the table when Iria slid it out. “I’m...not even sure how to explain this. You’ll probably end up sending me to a shrink after I tell you what happened.”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions.” She yanked the thermometer out of its mount and stuck it into the little opening where the disposable liners were kept and then held it in front of his face. “Under the tongue. Come on now. Don’t be shy. Open up wide, the shuttle’s coming in for a landing!”

Quatre gave her a dark look, but opened his mouth without comment, closing it again after it slid beneath his tongue. He stared at the display screen while Iria wrapped a blood pressure cuff around his arm and wedged her stethoscope into the crook of his elbow. She squeezed the bulbous end, filling the silence with the _hiss hiss hiss_ of compressed air until it was tight enough to cut off the circulation to his hand.

_Ninety eight point three…_

_Ninety eight point four…_

“I was actually thinking about calling you this afternoon,” Iria informed him. Unable to speak, he responded with a grunt of acknowledgement. “Haven’t talked to you in a couple of weeks.”

_Ninety eight point nine…_

“Tried to call you yesterday to wish you a happy birthday.”

_Ninety nine…_

“Your secretary said you’d taken the day off.”

_Ninety nine point two…_

“I figured you were out having a good time.”

_Ninety nine point four…_

The thermometer beeped just as she pulled the cuff away. She slipped the instrument out of his mouth and glanced at the readout. “Ninety nine five. Bit of a temp, but nothing to be too concerned about.”

“I didn’t even realize I had a fever. Doesn’t feel like it.”

“You typically run a little on the warm side anyway. I’d be more concerned if your normal was on the cooler side.” She dropped the liner into the waste bin, slid the thermometer back onto its mount and reached for the otoscope beside it.

“Iria, I don’t think this is really necessary,” Quatre said as she pushed the tip of the instrument up his nostril.

“Just basic procedure, little brother. Suck it up.” She shoved the otoscope up the other nostril and peered through the window. “No inflammation. No sign of an upper respiratory virus.”

“I told you I wasn’t sick, I wanted to -”

“Say “ahhhh”.”

“- talk - ahhhhhhhh…”

“Throat looks good. Tonsils appear normal.”

“Yes, I know that. I said I wasn’t sick,” he insisted as she stepped to the side to insert the tip of the otoscope into his ear. “Iria! Would you listen to me, damn it?”

She pulled the instrument out and took a step back, shocked by his outburst. He dipped his head, blushing with shame at his behavior. “I’m sorry. It’s just...what happened yesterday has got me really stressed out and it’s not viral. At least I don’t think so.”

To his surprise, her demeanor morphed from calm and clinical to one of abject alarm, which in turn alarmed him. “What?” She asked, her voice hushed with something he couldn’t decipher. “What happened last night?”

He let out a long sigh and braced himself for her inevitable reaction. Would she laugh? Or would she politely excuse herself and head to her office to call the nearest paddy wagon?

“Heero, Duo, Trowa, and Wufei came over last night. I wasn’t expecting them. They just showed up.”

“What did you _do_ , Quatre?”

He gave her a sharp look, confused and offended by her accusing tone. “ _I_ didn’t do anything. They seduced me.”

She pushed away from the table with a heated curse, frazzled though he wasn’t sure why. He watched his sister drag her fingers through her carefully styled dark blonde hair and realized he’d never seen her so upset before. “Did you let them?”

“What?”

She spun around, suddenly angry which scared him. What was going on? Why was everyone acting so damned weird? “Did you allow them to have sex with you, Quatre? Honest answers, please.”

As much as he wanted to be honest, he was more than a little unnerved at her reaction thus far and contemplated lying to save his own ass though he had no idea why telling her he had sex with his friends would cause her such distress. Still, he was here for that reason and lying would get him no closer to the truth. “Yes…?”

“Oh, damn it, Quatre!”

“What?! What the hell did I do? Why does me having sex with my friends upset you so much? What is going on?”

Iria was now bent over the small countertop in the corner of the room with her head in her hands. “You’ve activated your Omega,” she muttered.

“Excuse me?”

She huffed out a sigh and straightened up, worrying her lip between her teeth as he stared at him. “Your Omega. You were never supposed to know about this. Father was adamant.”

Of course the King of Secrets was behind all this. “Adamant about what? What the hell is my “Omega”?”

Iria reached for her stool and slid it over, sinking down tiredly as if she’d just inherited the weight of the world on her shoulders. “It’s...an anomaly. A mutation caused by a race of people being born in space. It’s extremely common among Newtypes. Mother had it, too.”

He stiffened at the mention of their mother and leveled a hard gaze on his sister. “Tell me everything, Iria. And I mean _everything._ ”

“Would you like some tea first?”

“No, I don’t want any damned tea. Quit stalling. Tell me what’s going on.”

“When...when strange sexual behaviors began to rise up among space-born people, specifically between Newtypes and those they'd taken as mates, scientists began to examine what was happening and why. They’d determined that it was some sort of mutation in Newtypes, designed to protect their vastly small numbers and vulnerability. Much like evolution takes steps to protect endangered species. The Omega gene is passed down from a Newtype Omega parent as Newtype Omegas breed more Newtype Omegas.”

“Does that mean you...and…”

“No,” Iria shook her head. “You are the only one out of all of us that carries the gene because you were born naturally. With the rest of us, the gene was isolated and removed during the zygote stage of our development. That’s why Father was so against our mother carrying any children the old fashioned way. There was no way to remove the gene without risk to mother and baby."

“But what does this mean?”

“It means, you are an Omega Newtype. Do you know why Father was so angry about you joining the war efforts?”

“Because he was a pacifist control freak?”

Iria’s mouth curled up in a wry smirk. “Well, you’re half right. The chances of your pheromones affecting others and resulting in seduction and subsequent sexual intercourse activates your Omega gene. Whoever the Omega chooses, even subconsciously, marks its chosen partner, or partners as its Alpha. Father didn’t want to run the risk of you luring and marking anyone -”

“Can it be reversed?”

“I’m afraid not. Once the initial sex has occurred, the bonding process begins. It’s for life. It cannot be reversed, removed, or broken.”

Quatre groaned and flopped back on the table. “Would have been nice if Father had informed me of this.”

“Can’t say I blame him,” came Iria’s amused voice. “You always did tend to do the opposite of what he wanted.”

“So you’re telling me that this gene I carry singled out my four best friends without my knowledge, produced pheromones to lure them in for sex which activated my dormant Omega and thus marked each of them as my Alphas?”

“That’s the gist, yes.”

He rubbed his fingers against his suddenly throbbing temples and muttered, “This is not happening.”

“Afraid so, little brother. Now, from what I gather, you’re here because you’re concerned about injury?”

“Maybe. I’m not sure why I’m here. I don’t think I’m injured. Sore, but not injured.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t worry about injury. Alphas are not capable of hurting their Omegas. They would die before they did that. As far as the soreness is concerned, after a while, it will go away as you adjust.”

Quatre narrowed his eyes at his sister. “Adjust to what?”

Iria shot him an infuriatingly cheerful grin. “Adjust to your new life as the Omega to four Alphas.”

“You cannot be serious.”

“Why did you think Father didn’t want you out of his sight? Hate to break it to you, kiddo, but this was why.”

Quatre glared as she started to giggle which progressed into a loud guffaw, throwing her head back and slapping her knees. “Is it too late for a second opinion?”

 

*******

 

_Twenty minutes later…_

Quatre had gotten himself in some doozies before, but this undoubtedly took the cake. Draped in a paper gown and reclined on the table with his feet in a pair of stirrups, this was hands down the most mortifying experience he’d ever had.

“If you ever tell anyone about this, I will never speak to you again.”

He listened to the slide of wheels across tile floor as Iria scooted over on her stool and flipped the examination light on. He knew what was coming, but jumped anyway when she folded back the sheet that laid across his legs. “Just relax, sweetie. I’m not going to hurt you.”

He pressed his lips together, resisting the urge to do the same with his knees as Iria adjusted the light, tilting it towards his nether regions, and decided death was a more acceptable alternative to this.

“I don’t see any contusions, or tearing. Just a little redness which isn’t surprising after...how many times did they -”

“Seven,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “I’ve told you that six times since I’ve been here.”

"...And you _walked_ in here?"

" _Iria_ -"

“Right. Sorry. Looks like your body had no difficulties accepting your Alphas.”

“What? Have there been people who've had difficulties?”

“A few cases, but most of the time it goes pretty smoothly.”

Somehow that wasn’t comforting. “Wonderful,” he deadpanned. “So what other th - Yeouch!”

“Sorry,” Iria murmured. "Just have to check some things.”

“You could have warned me!”

“And have you tense up? Who’s the doctor here?”

Quatre closed his eyes and tried to think happy thoughts. Anything really that didn’t involve his own sister’s hand up his ass. "Your bedside manner's for shit."

“Oh, quit being such a baby. Allah, this is an examination, not a molestation.”

“Doesn’t seem to be a difference at the mo - _moment!_ ” A surge of stimulation streaked up his spine as Iria’s gloved finger grazed his prostate.

“Are you getting off on this?”

He lifted his head to give her an incredulous look. “Of course not! What kind of sick -”

“Neither am I which means it’s not sexual. Now, shut up. I’m trying to concentrate.”

He dropped his head back down with a huff and stared up at the ceiling. “Concentrate on what?” Iria ignored him and he jumped again when she brushed his prostate a second time. “Will you _stop_ that?”

“Prostate is normal,” she oh so helpfully informed him.

A moment later, he yelped again and automatically closed his legs, nearly crushing her arm as he felt a weird gush from within. The same fluid from last night flooded down towards his opening, soaking his sister’s hand and the table beneath him. _Allah, this is too much. Take me now. I’m ready for the sweet, merciful kiss of Death._

“Eroyica gland is functioning perfectly,” Iria’s murmur interrupted his prayers for mercy and he glanced down as she pulled her hand out, shaking the excess fluid from it and then peeled the glove off, dropping it into the waste bin.

“The what gland?”

“Eroyica gland. It’s what produces the fluid.”

“What _is_ the fluid?”

“The medical term is Eroyicinnia. The common slang for it is “slick”.” She went to the sink and washed her hands. Quatre used the opportunity to close his legs and flip the sheet back over them, trying to preserve what little dignity he had left. “The Eroyica gland is a tiny coin-sized gland located just beneath the prostate in every male Omega. It produces the Eroyicinnia when you become aroused.”

“Why is this happening to me?” He groaned, slapping a hand over his face.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, love. In a way, I’d say you’re one of the luckiest bastards alive right now.”

He peeked at her from between his splayed fingers. “Is “bastard” also a clinical term, doctor?”

“Don’t get snarky,” she warned, pulling a few paper towels from the dispenser. “Omegas have quite an esteemed position. So much so that some scientists are trying to replicate the gene for humans born without it.”

“They can have mine.”

“The procedure would kill you, dear.”

“All the better.”

“Oh, knock it off, Quatre. It’s not a death sentence. You’ve managed to bond four of the most gorgeous and talented young men I’ve ever laid eyes on to you.”

“But what does that _mean?_ ”

She sighed and dropped back onto her stool. “It means that the four of them will be forever devoted to you and only you. They will protect you, care for you. They are yours just as much as you are theirs.”

“What about this Eroyicinnia? When I - they -”

“You will produce it anytime they display dominance. You will produce it anytime you become aroused. You will produce it anytime one of them becomes aroused. It acts as a lubricant and you will produce as much as you need at any given time. In addition to lubrication, Eroyicinnia contains enzymes, proteins, complex carbohydrates, minerals, as well as electrolytes. The carbohydrates are what gives it that sweet smell and taste. It also contains pheromones that act as an aphrodisiac. Their senses are sharper now and they will know when you’re producing it just by smell alone. And they will be drawn to it. It provides them the necessary hydration and energy they’ll need for long bouts of sexual intercourse.”

“That explains why they -” he remembered the way they’d devoured the stuff and shivered as a pang of arousal sparked in his lower belly. “Wait...long bouts of sexual intercourse?”

“There will be periods when they will require extended time to have sex with you. You must provide it when they need it, otherwise,” she twirled her index finger next to her temple. “They’ll go crazy. Especially when they hit their ruts.”

“What about _my_ sanity?”

She chuckled and patted his knee. “I know it’s a lot to absorb right now, but you’re equipped for this. Trust me on that. Every Omega is and there have been no reported cases of any Omegas becoming injured, or overwhelmed. Your body was prepared for this day since you were born.”

“What’s this about ruts?”

“When they hit their ruts, they will be insatiable. Ruts typically last no less than three days and no more than a week. You will have to be available to them at all times until it passes.”

“Are you serious?”

“Afraid so, sweetie. But, you’ll be fine. You’re a tough cookie.”

“But you said they can’t hurt me?”

“They won’t hurt you. Alphas are incapable of hurting their Omegas.”

“But...what if I’m not in the mood? What if I tell them no?”

She leaned forward, an unsettling leer on her face. “You won’t. Once you hear their call, you will be as helpless to the desire as they are.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

She laughed and leaned up, patting the side of his leg. “Nothing to worry about, little brother. Just do what your body tells you to and you’ll be fine. I’ll give you some information to take home. Just don’t show it to anyone, or tell anyone about this. Omegas are supposed to be an urban legend as far as the general public is concerned.”

“Great,” he grumbled. “Anything else?”

“They will be possessive. Dangerously so. The only risks posed are to anyone they deem as a threat, either to you, or your relationship with them. It’s important for you to not engage in sexual acts with anyone else and be careful who you choose to spend time with outside of work. You are in a committed relationship now so...act like it.”

“What about them?”

“Trust me, sweetie. The only one they want is you. The only one they’ll ever want is you.”

“And what about me? Do I have a clean bill of health?”

“Healthy as a horse, m’dear. Your body is accepting the changes beautifully, just as it was meant to. You can get dressed now. Any other questions?”

He sat up, clutching the front of his paper gown, hesitant to ask. “Am I - I mean...I’m not going to get pregnant, or anything, am I?”

Iria turned a lopsided grin on him. “Do you have a uterus I should know about?”

“...No?”

She grinned. “Then, no. You are not a woman. Hence, no buns in the oven for you.”

Despite his relief, he was left feeling a tad disappointed. Allah, but they would have made such beautiful babies.

Iria, bless her heart, always so observant. “There’s always the lab, kiddo. But, don’t even worry about that now. You’re too young to be considering fatherhood. You have plenty of time for that and you are going to have your hands full for a while."

"Among other places," he grumbled.

"True. Anything else?”

He thought for a moment, but could come up with nothing within the chaos of his mind. “Not right now. If I have any questions, I’m sure you’ll hear from me.”

“Anytime, hon. I’m here for you. You know that, right?”

He pushed the last of his trepidation out with a cleansing sigh and managed to conjure up an uneasy smile for his sister. “I know. Thank you, Iria. For everything.”

She wrapped him in a warm, comforting hug which did wonders for his overtaxed psyche. “You’ll be alright. They love you. You love them. It will take some adjustment, but I don’t doubt that you’ll all do just fine. Okay?”

“Yeah, okay. Hey, is the offer for lunch still open?”

“Sure it is. I’m free until one. What do you feel like?”

“Someplace with an open bar.”

“I never took you for a drinker.”

“I never took me for a lot of things. I guess I’m full of surprises.”


	6. Harsh Realities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the long wait. Hopefully, I'll be getting my writing mojo back into full swing now and will be able to update more regularly. Hope you like this chapter! ^.^

****The vodka sour was a perfect blend of sweet and tart with just enough liquor to melt Quatre’s frazzled nerves like a network of wires coated in honey. He glowered at Iria from across the table as she plucked the maraschino cherries from the plastic sword that rested on the top of his glass and popped all three into her mouth at once. “Those were mine, you thief.”

“Suck it up, kiddo. The world isn’t fair,” she quipped, sliding the orange wedge from the tiny spear and wrapping her lips around the fruit’s flesh.

“Have you always been this irritating?”

“Not really. Only after I ended up with twenty nine bratty younger siblings.”

“Touché,” he muttered, poking at the floating ice cubes in his glass with the tip of his straw.

“And you, my dearest baby brother,” she continued. “Were the worst of the bunch.”

“Oh, thanks.”

“I mean, the _worst_ -”

“Duly noted, sis -”

“I don’t think you could even wipe your own ass until you were old enough for school -”

“Okay, Iria!” He glanced around frantically, making sure no one had overheard that. “I was a brat. I get it.”

“You still are.”

“M’not,” he mumbled and sipped his drink.

“See? You’re pouting.”

“I’m not pout - damn it. Okay, look. Could you cut me a little slack here? It’s not every day someone gets news like…like the kind I got today, you know?”

“Honestly, Quatre. It’s not the end of the world.”

“Maybe not technically, but it’s not like I was given a choice in this. This omega… _whatever_ it is, just laid out my entire life for me. Including my romantic life. Not to mention the lives of my four best friends. They didn’t get a choice either.”

Iria paused in her task of decimating a defenseless bread stick and pointed the mangled half still in her hand at her brother. “One thing you need to learn and learn quick is that the Omega does not care what you want, or don’t want. Nor does it care about what anyone else wants. The sooner you accept that, the better off you’ll be.”

“What is it, though? Where does it come from?”

“We don’t really know for sure. The first case was documented in January of AC 99. People then thought it was just a fluke, some freak thing that couldn’t be explained and dismissed it. It wasn’t until the year 118 that they began to notice this anomaly popping up in more and more people.”

“All colonists.”

“Yes. It was just after the phenomenon known among some as Newtypes began to circulate. They found that there was a correlation between those who were suspected of being a Newtype having this Omega trait. The question is, which came first? The chicken, or the egg?”

“Does it matter?”

“If we want to get the bottom of it and accurately identify these anomalies and what their origins are, then yes.”

“How do you know so much about this?”

Iria shifted in her seat and glanced around before leaning over the table, her voice a hushed whisper when she said, “I’m part of the research team.”

“ _What?!_ ”

“Keep your voice down,” she hissed.

“You knew about this? All this time? And you never _said_ anything?”

“I couldn’t, Quatre, and I’m sorry about that. You had yet to be confirmed to have the Omega gene until today. This is classified information.”

“But you knew I was a Newtype and you said Mother was one, too. Isn’t there a blood, or DNA test you could have done?”

“The only way an Omega is confirmed one way, or the other is either by activating it, which you did, or it’s made known after death via autopsy by discovering the dormant Eroyica gland.”

“Are you both ready to order?”

They jumped back, away from each other like two opposing sides of a magnet and blinked up at the waiter who waited patiently, his pen poised over the thick stack of orders in his hand.

“Uh...yes,” Iria said, shaking the surprise away and glancing down at her menu. “I’ll have the Pasta Primavera, please.”

“Soup, or salad?”

“Salad. Italian. Quat?”

“Huh?” He turned his stunned expression on his sister who gave him a pointed look. “Oh. I don’t - I don’t really care. Whatever she’s having, or maybe just a plate of lettuce, or whatever...” His appetite had disappeared right around the time Iria told him he was a freak of nature and it had not been seen since. He lifted his glass and gently shook it. “I’ll take another one of these, though.”

“Right. I’ll just get these out of your way and go put the orders in.”

Iria had to yank Quatre’s menu out from under his elbows as it seemed he was lacking basic motor control at the moment and handed their menus to the waiter with an apologetic smile. “Thank you.”

“I’ll be back shortly with your drink, Sir.”

A sharp kick to the shin beneath the table jarred Quatre from his musings. He yelped, indignant, and rubbed the sore spot with his fingers. “Ow! What’s the matter with you?”

“Me? What’s the matter with you?” Iria glanced at the waiter as he left and then leveled a stern look at her brother. “He probably thinks you’re stoned, for Christ’s sake.”

“...Is that an option?”

“No! Allah, why are you being such a baby about this?”

“Well, excuse me for not being a pillar of gentlemanly etiquette after finding out something that changes not only my life, but the lives of other people. And to top it off, I find out my own sister had a hand in it and never told me!”

“Quatre,” she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Please understand that I could not tell you. You of all people should know the importance of Top Secret affairs.”

“Did Father know?”

“Of course. He funded the research. Still does through his estate.”

Quatre leaned back and folded his arms across his chest. “So he was Mother’s Alpha.”

“Yes.”

“Did either of them know beforehand?”

“No. It happened by accident, just as it did with you.”

He chewed his lip, not even sure he wanted to know the answer to the next question. “Did she have other Alphas?”

“No. Just Father.”

“So what determines how many Alphas an Omega has? The Omega?”

“We think so. There could be other reasons why an Omega has only one, or in cases such as yours, multiple Alphas.”

“What reasons would those be?”

“Well, just remember that I’m only speculating here. We’re still kind of flying by the seat of our pants on this so a lot of what I’m telling you is guesswork.”

He huffed, but nodded in acquiesce. As much as he would have liked definitive answers, this was as good as it was going to get. At least for now. “Fine.”

“Okay. I don’t know if there’s any real rhyme, or reason, but as a scientist, I know that there is usually an explanation, even when we don’t know what it is. My best guess is that it has to do with risk factors. The more at risk an Omega is, the higher the need for more Alphas. Mother was a low-risk Omega. She was a domesticated woman and was well-protected by a man with the power and the resources to keep her safe. She only needed one Alpha.”

He idly tapped his lip as he weighed the merits of this theory in his mind. It did make sense.

“You,” Iria continued, “are a high-risk Omega. You were a soldier. You are in a position where you are almost constantly in the public eye which puts you in danger, not only of exposure, but to threats by business rivals, political enemies..” She hesitated there and turned her gaze towards the window.

He waited to see if she would go on and gently prompted her when she seemed to space out. “And...what else?”

She cleared her throat, her face pained as she turned back to him. “And assassins,” she added, wincing at the mere thought of such a thing. “And...other Alphas. The fact that you -”

“Wait.” He stopped her and leaned forward, intrigued. “What do you mean “other Alphas”?”

She smiled, though it was bitter and lacked any semblance of humor. “You are highly sought after, little brother. You know that. Even if you take away the Omega aspect, you are extremely desirable. Factor in the Omega, if you’re not careful, established Alphas will sniff you out and claim you before you even know what’s happening.”

“What the hell do you mean by “claim me”?”

“The -” Iria began, but stopped abruptly and pressed her lips together as the waiter arrived to bring Quatre’s drink. Both she and the waiter watched in stunned silence when he grabbed the straw, threw it over his shoulder, and tipped the drink back, guzzling down two thirds of it within five seconds. He nodded in affirmation, wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, and tapped the glass for the waiter to bring him another.

“Yes...Sir. Of course, Sir. I’ll get you another.” The young man’s expression could only be described as “weirded out” as he spun on his heel and walked away. It wasn’t every day that the prestigious Quatre Winner showed up at a restaurant and displayed less than perfect manners.

“Have you lost your mind?” Iria hissed once they were alone again.

Quatre leveled a stony look on her. “Is this a rhetorical question?”

“You are not getting wasted in front of all these people.”

He shrugged. “Fine. I’ll just do it when I get home.” He turned their discussion back to the issue at hand despite her answering scowl. “What did you mean by “claim me”?”

She huffed, planted her elbows onto the table hard enough to rattle the silver, and rubbed her temples. “Your Alphas have already claimed you. But another can reclaim you, if you let them, or if...”

He put the pieces together easily enough even through the fuzziness of the alcohol sloshing around in his brain. “Or if they rape me.”

“You have got to be careful, Quatre. You have to take at least as many precautions as you do now, or did during the war. You already have a target on your head -”

“Now I have one on my ass,” he grumbled. “Literally.”

“You are susceptible to your Alphas’ call. They share your gift now and they will have to learn to keep that in check. It won’t be easy.”

He thought back to the moment after the first round of sex when Trowa had put him to sleep with a mere thought alone. “What exactly are they capable of now?”

“Everything you are. But in addition to that, as Alphas, their nature is protective and territorial. There will be times when they will have difficulty controlling themselves around you, at least in the beginning. Things will get better, become more stable once all of you have acclimated into your new lives. But initially, there will be some bumps in the road while you adjust. That goes for them, too.”

“But you said they couldn’t hurt me.”

“Technically, no. They aren’t capable of that. The Omega would never allow it, but what the Omega will want and what you will want may conflict at times.”

“Could you elaborate?”

“Think of it as a young child. It operates on instinct alone. It knows what it wants and it knows what needs to be done to accomplish that. It’s not going to care if you’re tired, or not in the mood. It is intricately connected to your Alphas at all times, even when you are not aware of it. And it will tell them what it wants, when and where it wants it, regardless of what your feelings on the matter are.”

“Wonderful. So this parasite gets to control everything I do and what gets done to me.”

“Believe me, sweetie. Once it gets your Alphas going, you won’t care. You’ll be in the same boat they are.”

He groaned and buried his face in his hands. “I don’t believe this. So, what are we supposed to do? How do we make this work? None of us live together. We all have separate lives, careers. Trowa’s on L3. Duo’s on L2. Heero and Wufei are on Earth.”

“I’ll be honest with you. I’ve never encountered any Omegas that didn’t live with their Alphas. I’m sure at some point, that will happen. They will need to be close to you. Separation does not bode well for Alphas.”

“Is there nothing that can break this? What happens if I die first?”

“You’d better not be thinking anything along those lines, young man. If you die first, they will follow. It’s inevitable.”

“That’s bullshit! That’s not fair.” A profound sense of fear, anger, and helplessness surged within his chest and manifested as a bitter sting behind his eyes. This was so wrong. They didn’t deserve this fate.

She reached for his hand. “I don’t make the rules, hon, and I’m sorry that this has happened. If I knew of a way that could break the bond safely, I would do it in a heartbeat.”

He rubbed his eyes and blew out a heavy sigh. “Now I know why you and Father kept this from me.”

She smiled sadly and squeezed his hand. “What’s done is done. There’s no going back. The only thing we can do now is make the best of what’s been laid out for us. It can work, Quat. You can be happy and so can they. The Omega in you chose them for a reason. It knows how much you love them and how much they love you.”

“I’m scared, Iria,” he confessed. And there it was. The ominous feeling at the root of all this, simmering beneath. Unease, uncertainty, and trepidation licking up into him like flickering flames heating the twisted tension in his gut.

“Oh, Quat. You’ll be fine. I promise. Look, you’ve got the best Alphas you could possibly have. Four ex-Gundam pilots? And you’re one yourself?”

A grin found it’s way to his mouth, small as it was. “Does that mean you approve?”

“Are you kidding? Consider this my ringing endorsement. You’ve got the best of the best looking out for you. And they love you. You’ll get through this.”

He blew out a breath and worked the stiffness from his shoulders. “Alright. I’ll do my best. The question now is, how am I going to explain all this to them?”

“You didn’t spend fifteen years of being trained for the public eye for nothing, kiddo. You got this.”

He wasn’t so sure. This wasn’t damage control over a faulty satellite, or schmoozing politicians to get a crucial bill passed. This was deeply personal and involved the four most important people in his life. The feeling, he surmised, wasn’t all that different from an oncologist getting ready to deliver bad news to a cancer patient. The weight of anxiety made him queasy and felt heavy across his back. Suddenly, his stomach was making its displeasure over those vodka sours known.

“Just remember...and this is important. You are in a committed relationship now so you need to act like it. Your Alphas are extremely territorial and people have lost their lives due to jealous, or vengeful Alphas. Don’t do anything to provoke that. No flirting, no dates, definitely no sex.”

“Pretty sure I’m going to have my hands full on that front.” _Among other things._

“There’s no doubt about that. You certainly won’t be lacking when it comes to sex.”

“You mentioned something about rutting? Does that mean I’ll go into heat?”

“Only females have heat cycles. But male Alphas always rut.”

“How often?”

“On average, every six months, but everyone’s different. Sometimes it’s longer, sometimes it’s shorter.”

“All at once, or separately?”

“You’re a unit. You’re all connected together so your Alphas will rut at the same time. And when they do, you’re going to need to take time off from work because they will need you. You’re going to have to give them what they need, when they need it.”

He got the peculiar sense that there was more. “Or?”

“Or they will go insane. I’m not even joking,” she assured him when his face twisted into mild disbelief. “Trust me, you do not want them climbing the walls and getting violent.”

“You make them sound like animals.”

She pressed her lips together and leaned back. Alarmed by her lack of response, Quatre narrowed his eyes. “Oh, Allah. Is that how they’re going to be? _Iria!_ ”

“No! It’s - it’s not as bad as it sounds.”

“Speak for yourself!”

“They’re not going to be...well, alright. If we’re being honest here. Kind of.”

“Kind of? What kind of answer is “kind of”?”

“They’ll be...tenacious.”

He eyed her suspiciously. “Tenacious.”

“Yes.”

Memories surfaced, hazy, but still strangely lucid. The pull he’d felt in Heero’s mind. The verbal command that triggered his Eroyica gland and the way they’d all responded to it. Sniffing the air like dogs catching wind of prey. How they’d yanked him off the couch, ripped his t-shirt, and went at him with a ferocity that he couldn’t bring himself to be frightened of even though he’d had every reason to be scared.

They’d been nothing short of feral and if their ruts were any more intense, he would be in for it. And for some reason that didn’t frighten him either. Anything but. He shifted on his chair, a jolt of panic surging up his spine when he felt a slight tickle inside, followed by a trickle of moisture seeping into his briefs. If the mere thought of sex with his Alphas could stimulate his Eroyica gland, he was going to have to exercise monumental self restraint to keep from soaking himself in public.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t do that.”

He glanced up, caught Iria’s knowing look, and blushed to the tips of his ears. He was saved from further embarrassment when the waiter arrived with their food and the sight and smells of fresh pasta and spices managed to bring his appetite back around. More ravenous than he could ever remember being, he picked up his fork and began digging in before the plate was even on the table.

Iria watched him with an amused expression, her water glass resting against her lips. “That’s more like it. You need to eat and eat well. Your health is important and you’re going to need that energy.”

He twirled his noodles around his fork and shoveled it into his mouth, sending her a sharp glare when she winked playfully.

“You’re a pervert.”


	7. Candied Yams

_Tuesday, December 16th, 3:32pm. L3 X7884, District six..._

Trowa had been in a rather...precarious state in the three days since he’d left Quatre’s apartment. The feelings he’d been nursing for close to six years seemed to have come to some sort of head. Especially now that he’d consummated those feelings. It was even more difficult to get Quatre off his mind. He couldn’t seem to control the spontaneous erections, or the dire urge to fly out to L4 and fuck the blond within an inch of his life. **  
**

He tried to keep it on the down low, withdrawing somewhere private to relieve the pent up tension and arousal, but it was only a temporary fix and his stoic composure was beginning to crack at the seams.

And Catherine was beginning to notice after the third time he accidentally dropped her during trapeze practice.

“Damn it, Trowa,” she shouted as she bounced against the net. “What the hell has gotten into you lately?” She yanked herself up and rolled off, smoothing out her clothing with an agitated press of her hands.

“Sorry.” He reached up and grabbed the trapeze bar, unhooking his legs from it, and swung himself back onto the platform. “Just distracted, I guess.”

“Well, you’d better un-distract yourself because we’re performing tonight and so help me, if you drop me…”

“I won’t, Cath. I promise.” He climbed down the ladder and took the bottle of water she held out to him. “Thanks.”

She took a drink from her own bottle, never breaking her keen, eagle-eyed stare and Trowa’s skin prickled under the scrutiny. There were times when he despised her perceptiveness and this was one of those times. She capped her bottle and wiped her mouth on her wrist. “Are you on drugs?”

The water in Trowa’s mouth sprayed out from between his pursed lips like a ceramic fish fountain. He turned shocked eyes on his sister and gawked at her quizzical expression. “What?”

She gave him a derisive look, knowing damn well he’d heard her clearly. “Drugs, Trowa. You know...mind-altering substances? Weed, meth, cocaine, heroin, speed, LDS -”

“LSD.”

She pointed a triumphant finger at him and nodded like she’d just figured out the million dollar question on a TV gameshow. “See? How would you know that if you weren’t partaking in the narcotics and such?”

“Cathy,” he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “One does not need to be on drugs to know the names of them. No. I’m not on drugs, okay?”

She gave him a shrewd look. “Just what I’d expect a drug user to say.”

He grabbed her by the arms and stared into her eyes, opening his own as wide as he could. “Look at me, Cath. Do you see any signs of me being under the influence? My eyes are not bloodshot, my pupils aren’t dilated. I’m. Not. On. Drugs. Okay? I’m - I’m just distracted and I’m sorry. I’ll do better.” He turned away and pulled a clean towel off the ropes that held the net taut to wipe the sweat off his face.

“Okay,” Cathy conceded, a trace of exasperation in her voice. “So? Are you going to tell me what’s distracting you?”

He paused with the towel covering the lower half of his face and closed his eyes. God, he knew that was coming next. He’d just hoped that it wouldn’t. “It’s...complicated,” he answered, hoping that would be enough.

But of course it wasn’t. Of course.

“How is it complicated?” She asked, catching the pleading expression on his face which begged her not to ask. She looked confused for a moment before her eyes lit up in excitement and Trowa immediately knew where her brain had gone.

“No. Cath, no.”

“Trowa,” she squealed, grabbing his hands in her own and bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Who is she? Come on, now. Don’t be shy. Tell me all about her. She must be quite the lady to have you all flustered like this.”

“Cath -”

She sighed dreamily and spun in a circle. “Young love. I must say, I was beginning to wonder about you. You never seemed interested in any of the pretty girls that have passed through here -”

“Cathy -”

“I want to know everything about her. No, scratch that. I want to meet her. How about you invite her over for dinner tonight. Or maybe tomorrow night if she’s busy. Oh! I know! I can make that Stroganoff you like so much. Does she like Stro -”

“Cathy!”

“What?” She turned, shocked out of her mooning by his emphatic tone. “What’s the problem?”

 _Fuck, I’m not ready for this discussion yet._ “Can we just change the subject, please?”

Her face drooped in disappointment, mouth turning down into a pout, but she reluctantly shrugged her shoulders. “If you’d like. I don’t know why you wouldn’t want to tell me about her, though. She -”

“It’s not a she!”

Catherine froze with her mouth halfway open. “It’s - what?”

He tipped his head back in frustration. _Too late to take it back now, pal._ He threw his hands up and headed over to the rows of seats where their rapt audience would be sitting in just a few hours, plopping down onto the ground floor bench. He rested his elbows on his knees and dropped his head into his hands.

He sensed Catherine’s approach, but didn’t look up, not even when she sat down beside him and blew out a breath. He closed his eyes and waited for judgement.

“Oh,” was all she said.

“Yeah,” he muttered.

“It’s him, isn’t it? That kid -”

He lifted his head and glowered at her. “Quatre. You know his name and he’s not a ‘kid’, Cath. He’s twenty one.”

She gave him a wry look. “You’re all kids to me.”

“So…” He was still waiting for some kind of explosion, or condemnation. “That’s it? Just ‘oh’?”

She smoothed out her ballet skirt and let out a defeated sounding sigh. “I want to say I’m surprised, but now that you’ve said it, I realize I already knew.”

“Knew what?”

“About you and him.”

“There is no ‘me and him’.” At least he didn’t think so. What happened between them, and with Duo, Heero, and Wufei...well, it complicated matters and he had no idea where they stood. In all honesty, he wouldn’t blame Quatre for never speaking to any of them again.

“Oh, Trowa. Don’t be dense.”

He leaned back onto his hands and narrowed his eyes at her. “Not five minutes ago, you were gushing over me supposedly finding a girl and now you’re telling _me_ not to be dense?”

“I’ll admit some of that was wishful thinking.”

“Just some?”

She gave him a dark look. “Well, excuse me for wanting you to have a normal life.”

He bristled and returned the glare, nerves sparking from the unexpected push of his buttons. “Who says I can’t even if I’m not with a girl?”

“Come on, Trowa. He could never give you a stable life, or a family.”

“My life has never been stable, but it’s more stable now than it’s ever been. I have two people to thank for that. You and him. As far as a family is concerned, there are other options if either of us ever wanted that.” _What the hell am I saying?_

“Yeah, but...they wouldn’t be yours, you know?”

“Is that really what you think a family is?” Now he was getting pissed off and he knew he should walk away before he said something he’d regret. “I would think you’d know better than anyone that family is not defined by blood. Especially considering you took me in and practically adopted me.”

“I just want something better for you, Trowa.”

He breathed in deep through his nose, trying desperately to quell the rage that was simmering beneath his skin. It scared him a little. He was never temperamental, not someone prone to acute bouts of anger, but the idea that Quatre wasn’t good enough for him, that someone dared to _think_ he wasn’t, infuriated him.

He stood up, shaking from the sudden rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins and his attempts to restrain the fury, and turned to leave before the situation got out of hand. His rational side was battling something else, something new and unfamiliar. Something that wanted control.

Just like that time in Quatre’s bedroom.

_Calm down! She doesn’t mean anything by it. She’s just worried about you because she loves you._

“Trowa? Did I - did I say something wrong?”

He held a hand up, refusing to look at her for fear of unleashing something he did not want unleashed. “Don’t. Don’t come any closer.”

“Trowa, what’s wrong? I’m - I’m sorry! I didn’t mean -”

“Just...don’t, Cath. Not right now. I need to be alone.” He headed towards the back entrance of the tent, fuming hot and nostrils flaring. He was terrified over how quickly that had set him off, terrified of hurting Catherine.

“Trowa! Wait -”

“No! We’ll talk about this later, but not now, Cath. Please just leave me alone.”

He stepped out into the cooler, climate-controlled air of L3 and lifted his gaze to the inky sky beyond the Plexiglass solar panels, dotted with tiny points of light. It was hard to imagine that those little specks were giant balls of radioactive plasma. They looked so small, twinkling serenely among the vast vacuum of space.

It was something he had in common with his fellow pilots. That profound sense of inner peace that could only come from space. Zen, as Wufei liked to call it.

His nerves began to settle a little but he was still in no shape to talk to Catherine. He walked back to his trailer, pulled a bottle of Heineken out of the fridge, and sat down on the sofa with a heavy sigh.

These feelings, whatever they were, were beginning to drive him mad. He was edgy, horny, and had become rather short-tempered. Something he’d never been before. He was snapping at people left and right, more often than not, getting irritated with them over the most trivial things.

He had no desire to have sex with anyone aside from Quatre, but that in itself wasn’t unusual. The only one he’d ever really wanted was Quatre. For the last six years, the blond was the one he pictured in his mind when he felt the need to indulge in a late night fantasy. But casual sex wasn’t something he was opposed to and had done it a few times when he got to the point where his hand was no longer enough.

Sometimes you just needed the hot wet suction of a mouth and the unbeatable sensation of sinking your dick into a willing body to exercise the sexual demons. He wound up looking for petite blonds, similar to Quatre in appearance and though he felt guilty afterwards, it made it so much easier to pretend he was fucking the person he was truly pining for.

He couldn’t stop thinking about Quatre. He couldn’t stop obsessing over how he’d tasted, the substance he’d produced was almost like an elixir. Like a sweet opiate and aphrodisiac that seemed to replenish him after he’d consumed it. He couldn’t get enough of it, could still taste it and he craved it like a fiend in need of a fix.

And Quatre’s reaction to the way they’d exerted their dominance simply fed into the intoxicating rush of power and need, producing more and more of the substance until he was soaking wet with it.

Trowa’s memory of that night was still a little foggy, but he distinctly remembered burying his face between the cheeks of Quatre’s ass and devouring the slick fluid like a dying man drinking from a cool lagoon after weeks in the scorching heat of the desert.

He remembered a slight scuffle between the other three, pulling him away from his prize so that they could get a taste. He recalled a sharp yank on his hair and then he’d watched with wild, feral eyes as Duo took his place. The scent of that fluid had affected all of them the same way and consuming it produced the same effect as a shot of adrenaline.

He remembered pinning Quatre to the floor and driving his cock into the blond’s pliant body with such force, it frightened him after all was said and done. At the time, there was nothing that could have pulled him away, so single-minded he was in his need for completion, nothing else mattered. After he came, he was pushed off and rolled to the side where he watched Duo mount their friend and press inside him with a similar display of aggression.

They’d each taken a turn, none of them showing even an ounce of mercy, or sanity for that matter, until they’d gotten off and then they came around slowly, awareness bringing to light the sobering reality of what they’d done.

Quatre was spent, having climaxed multiple times, evident when they’d finally rolled him onto his back. Thankfully, he appeared uninjured with the exception of hand prints around his wrists, upper arms, and hips, as well as several love bites dotting his neck and shoulders. His opening was only slightly red with no blood, or tearing and the strange substance seemed to dry up once it was all over.

His ability to put Quatre to sleep was even more troubling. Since he’d been back at the circus, he’d attempted the same thing on a few others, but with no results. Heero had hypothesized on the way back to the shuttle port that perhaps Quatre’s empathy had a prolonged effect on them. After so many years of bonding in close proximity, perhaps Newtype abilities began to affect those around them.

Granted, it was the most logical explanation, but it still didn’t answer the questions of why they’d seemed to have so much control over Quatre who was typically someone that could not be controlled, or why Quatre had produced that substance. Or why they all seemed to be so much more intricately connected to each other, linked together through their connection with Quatre.

On top of everything else, this disturbing level of arousal and the hostility he’d been inadvertently displaying both confused and worried him. He found himself so distracted by thoughts of Quatre, that he was becoming forgetful, distracted. He’d forget to eat, he was having trouble sleeping, and the separation anxiety was only getting worse with each passing day.

The possessiveness was also worrisome. It was bordering on obsession now and even though he was pretty sure Quatre hadn’t gone out and found himself a new sex partner three days after he was fucked into unconsciousness by his four best friends, it didn’t stop Trowa from compulsively thinking about it. From this distance, it was impossible to know what the blond was doing at any given time and it pissed Trowa off, consuming him with a desperate urgency to find out.

He hadn’t tried to contact Quatre yet and he was certain the other three hadn’t either. And as far as he knew, Quatre had not yet contacted any of them. Not hearing from him made Trowa restless and tetchy. At the very least, a phone call to let them all know he was okay would suffice.

Actually, it wouldn’t suffice, but it was better than this maddening silence.

His phone jarred him from his thoughts, rattling against the coffee table as it blared out a looping clip of Tears of a Clown which Duo had downloaded as a joke and Trowa just never bothered to change. It was a rather catchy tune. A timeless classic.

He set his beer down and swiped the phone off the table, hoping against hope that Quatre had finally decided to call, or at the very least, Heero with some new developments. He glanced at the display and groaned when he saw it was Duo. Duo had taken it upon himself to ‘check in’ with each of them, asking them invasive questions in his need to compare notes.

The last time they’d spoken, which was that morning, Duo informed him that Heero and Wufei had stopped answering his calls. Trowa was tempted to do the same, but it seemed he was a glutton for punishment because he slid his finger across the screen to connect the call and placed the phone against his ear. If nothing else, he could chalk it up to morbid curiosity. “What is it now, Duo?”

“Oh, thank god,” Duo exclaimed, sounding relieved. “I was worried you wouldn’t answer either, but I know you’re actually a _good_ friend who wouldn’t do that to me. Right?”

Trowa rubbed his forehead and leaned back into the cushions. “Only if you have something to say that doesn’t involve you whining about how horny you are.”

“Tro, it’s killing me,” Duo informed him, proceeding to do just that. “Hilde let me do her, you know…” Trowa winced at the admission. “Because I was going bonkers and taking her with me, but it didn’t help! It didn’t do shit, man. Why didn’t it work? It’s always worked before.”

“I don’t know, Duo. Heero’s trying his best to figure this out.”

“I know you guys are in the same boat. I don’t know how I know that, but I just know so that makes me feel a little bit better. Is this what it’s like for Quat all the time?”

“Minus the need to dry hump everything, yes. I think so.”

“I feel like just dropping everything and going back to L4. I _need_ him, Tro. I can’t stand this anymore.”

Fuckin’ A, neither could Trowa. He wanted nothing more than to shuck his responsibilities and spend the rest of his life worshipping Quatre’s body. “I don’t think Quatre would appreciate us banging his door down just to have sex with him again,” he said instead.

“You still haven’t heard from him, have you?”

He rubbed his face in agitation. “No. No, not yet.”

“Just call him, dude!”

“Why don’t _you_ just call him?”

“Because he’s closest to you and...I don’t want him biting my head off.”

“So it’s better that he bites _my_ head off. I get it, thanks.”

“Oh, you know what I mean. Besides, I don’t think he’s capable of biting your head off.”

Trowa wasn’t so sure about that. What happened between the five of them likely changed the game and the stress of not knowing what was going on was eating away at him. If he were honest, he could easily picture Quatre going on some raving, long-winded rant about his horn-dog friends, complete with a colorful array of Arabic curses.

Duo immediately picked up on Trowa’s reticence. “You’re scared to call him, aren’t you?”

He shifted, uncomfortable with admitting such a weakness. _Oh, who are you kidding? You’re fucking petrified_. “A little, yeah.”

“Damn. This sucks, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah.” He leaned forward when he heard a knock at the door. “Hang on a sec, Duo.” He pulled the phone away from his ear and called out, “Who is it?”

“Trowa...it’s me. Can I come in?” Catherine’s voice drifted through the door, sounding soft and cautious. She’d come to make peace. Of that Trowa was sure.

“Yeah,” he answered, feeling calm enough now to talk to her. He pressed the phone against his ear again. “Duo, can I call you back? I need to talk to my sister.”

“Yeah sure, buddy. Or you can just wait until I call you back again. It’s up to you. Just…” Duo lowered his voice to a secretive hush. “If you do decide to go see Quat...take me with you?”

“Bye, Duo.”

“Tro -”

He disconnected the call and looked up at Catherine who stood in the doorway, looking sheepish and holding a covered dish in her hands. She help up the dish and tried for a smile. “Peace offering?”

Trowa could smell its contents from his place on the couch and his eyes lit up with pleasure. “Are those candied yams?”

Catherine grinned. “Of course! The best comfort food there is.”

“You got that right.” Trowa returned the grin and got up, leading her into the kitchen where he pulled a couple of bowls out of the cupboard. Catherine fished one big spoon and two smaller ones out of his silver drawer and Trowa watched her pull the top off the container, releasing a plume of steam into the air. The smell of sweet potatoes, butter, cinnamon, and nutmeg wafted across his nose and his mouth watered, suddenly more hungry than he’d been in three days.

Catherine dipped the spoon into the casserole and scooped out a giant portion, both of them laughing at the strings of gooey marshmallow that spilled over the sides. Trowa held his bowl up for her and then the other so she could spoon it in. “Perfect as always, Cath.”

“It’s the perfect winter comfort food. My mother used to make it every time the weather called for snow and then we’d cuddle together on the sofa, under a mound of blankets -” she laughed “- With our bowls of candied yams and watch the snow fall outside. It was so peaceful. I can’t remember another time I've ever felt so safe.” Her smiled faded as her expression shifted from amusement to wistful and faraway. “I miss her.”

Trowa reached across the counter and took her hand. “I’m sorry, Cath.” He’d never even known his family and in some ways, he thought that might have been better. At least he had no memories for which to grieve their loss.

She wiped a few tears away and smiled at him. “It’s okay. I know she’s somewhere better now, looking down at me. I just hope I’ve made her proud.”

“I have no doubt about that. I’m sure wherever she is, she’s singing your praises. She raised an outstanding young lady.”

“Flatterer,” she teased, blushing prettily. “Well, dig in before it gets cold!”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” He picked up his spoon and scooped up the warm, gooey goodness, his eyes closing in bliss at the first heavenly taste. “Mmm...that is so delicious. Perfection!”

“Mom’s recipe,” she told him with a wink. “I remember my father used to joke that she could create a six course gourmet meal with a sack of potatoes and a blade of grass.”

“She sounds like a treasure.”

“She was.”

They ate in silence for a few moments, just enjoying the food and the pleasant company. The rift between them melted away just like the marshmallows on the casserole melted in their mouths.

Halfway through, Catherine pointed her spoon at him and said, “I had a little brother, too.”

Trowa swallowed a bite of casserole and glanced up at her in surprise. “You did?”

“I did,” she told. “He’d be about your age now.”

“What happened to him?”

“He was...lost. Killed, I think. In the attack that killed my parents. He was only two at the time.”

“I’m so sorry, Cathy.”

“His body was never found,” she told him and then laughed, a self-deprecating sound. “I like to think he made it somehow. That he was taken in by a nice family and that he’s out there somewhere. Happy, you know?”

He shrugged. “Nothing wrong with that. It’s good to keep hope alive. And who knows? Maybe you’re right.”

“When I first met you, I almost thought you were him,” she confessed, flushing in embarrassment. “Silly, I know.”

“It’s not silly, Cath.”

“There’s just something about you...I don’t know. It’s like, when I look at you, I feel like I’m looking at a younger version of my father.”

“I’m sure psychologists would have a field day with that,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood and detract from the twinge of uneasiness that twisted in his belly.

She chuckled and spooned in another mouthful, waving her hand in dismissal. “Ignore me. I’m just being weird.” She paused and watched him eat for a moment, worrying her lip between her teeth. “So...did you and Quatre get into a fight, or something?”

He looked up, taken off guard by the question and shook his head. “No. No, nothing like that.”

“Then what is it?”

“What is what?”

“Don’t play dumb, Trowa. The fact is, you’ve been different ever since you came back a few days ago.”

“I’m just stressed out.” _Please don’t make me tell you what happened. I don’t think I could handle your judgement if you ever found out what I did. I’m not proud of myself, Cath._

“Something must have happened,” she pressed. “There’s something different about you. I can’t really put my finger on it, but ever since you came back, there’s been something there that’s...it’s not you.” Her eyes widened and then narrowed, turning dark and threatening. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“What? Cathy, no! Of course he didn’t, god. No, he didn’t do anything wrong.”

She licked her spoon clean and then set it into her empty bowl. “Did you hurt him?”

He looked away, feeling as though he’d been busted red handed. He didn’t want to lie to her, but he just...didn’t know what actually happened. “It’s...complicated, Cath, okay? Can we just leave it at that for now? I don’t - I don’t really know what’s going on either.”

“Are you in some sort of trouble?”

 _Define ‘trouble’._ “No, I - I don’t think so. It’s just something he and I need to figure out together and we need some time to do that.”

“You’re scaring me, Trowa.”

“Please, please don’t be scared, Cath.” He rested his hand on top of hers and squeezed it reassuringly. “I’m alright. He’s alright. When I know more, I will definitely tell you.”

She pinned him with a firm look. “You promise?”

He nodded emphatically. “Yes. I promise you I will. And I’ll be fine. Nothing bad is going to happen, okay?”

She turned her hand over and wrapped her fingers around his. “You really are like a brother to me. I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t. I swear to you, I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

She blew out a breath and nodded, summoning a smile for him. “Okay. I believe you.”

“Thank you. You want some coffee?”

“Sure, if you’re having some.” She grabbed the bowls and took them to the sink while Trowa got the coffee ready. “I’m going to leave most of this with you, but I’m going to take a little bowl home for a midnight snack.”

“You truly are an angel.”

“I know,” she quipped as she spooned a little for herself into a small Tupperware container and then covered the rest and placed the leftovers in Trowa’s fridge. “Rena keeps telling me I shouldn’t eat after seven o’clock. Every minute past on the lips, a lifetime on the hips, she says. But I don’t think I could ever give up my midnight sna -” She stopped short and balked, leaning forward and peering into the icebox with an appalled expression. “Good god, Trowa! It’s practically empty in here. When was the last time you went to the grocery?”

He shrugged and flicked the coffeemaker on. “Dunno. Been a while. I usually just grab takeout, or have a TV dinner. The freezer’s full of them.”

She pulled the freezer door open and made a disgusted face. “You cannot live on TV dinners, Trowa Barton.”

“Why not? It’s a full course meal. Look…” He walked over to the freezer and pulled out a box of spaghetti and meatballs, showing her the picture on the front. “Carbs, protein, two servings of veggies.”

“A growing boy like you needs homecooked meals.”

“I stopped growing three years ago, Cath.”

“It doesn’t matter.” She slammed the freezer closed, leaned against it, and stared at him with her signature ‘mother hen’ face. “I hope Quatre knows how to cook.”

“Quatre is not required to cook for me. Besides, I know how to cook. I just don’t see the point when it’s just me.”

 _And we’re not even together and may never be at this point,_ he reminded himself.

“He should.”

“Cath, he’s busier than I am! This isn’t the 1950’s first of all and second, he’s not a doting housewife.”

“But you want him to be,” she said, winking mischievously as if she was onto some huge secret.

Trowa was, quite literally, saved by the bell and he gave her one last stern look before he left the kitchen to answer his phone, intent on telling Duo to just beat one off and take a damned chill pill. He grabbed the phone off the table and swiped his finger across the screen without bothering to read the display. “Duo, I swear to Christ. If you call me one more time before -”

“Trowa?”

His heart stopped for a moment and then restarted with a painful lurch. “Quat? Is that you?”

“Yeah, hi. How are you?”

“Hang on. Don’t hang up, okay? Just gimme a sec.” He turned to Catherine who was already leaving with her little bowl of leftovers.

“I’m going,” she told him, pausing at the door. “Remember, dress rehearsal at six.”

“I know. Thanks, Cath.”

“You two work this out, whatever it is. I believe in you. Toodles,” she chirped and skipped down the steps as the door swung closed behind her.

Trowa lifted the phone back to his ear. “Quat?”

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“How are - are you alright?” God, it was so good to hear his voice. He sunk down onto the sofa, feeling weak and shaky with relief. “I’ve been worried about you.”

“I’m okay,” Quatre assured him.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, Quatre. I don’t know what happened, but I do know that I will never forgive myself if we -”

“I said I was fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m...I’m sorry I didn’t call you sooner. I just - I needed time to think.”

“That’s understandable.”

“No, you don’t understand. Not about what we did. It was more about -” He broke off and Trowa heard a heavy sigh on the other end of the line. “Allah, I don’t know how to say this.”

“You know you can tell me anything, Quat. You know that, right?”

“Under normal circumstances, yes. I know that, but what I have to tell you...well, it’s not anything that could be considered ‘normal’.” He sighed again and Trowa chewed his lip as he waited, feeling jittery and impatient. “I know what happened that night.”

His belly flipped over with a giddy sense of relief. “You do? Oh, thank god!”

“Yeah, but...it’s not exactly...orthodox.”

“Quatre, for Christ’s sake, just tell me what’s happening!”

“I will. If you’re not sitting down though, I suggest you do. And maybe you should grab yourself another Heineken...maybe a few. Maybe a whole case...”

“Quat, I find it hard to believe it’s so bad that I need to get drunk.”

“I think it is.”

“Why?”

“I did.”


	8. Long Distance Liaisons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, finally got this done. Sorry the update took so long, but I hope it was worth the wait. Lots of things in store for this one yet and I'm pretty excited about it.
> 
> This chapter includes masturbation, phone sex, and exhibition. Not really warnings, but a head's up. ~.^

The air between them crackled in the silence that followed and Quatre instinctively knew that Trowa was standing in the middle of his living room with his jaw on the floor. If he hadn’t felt so damned tired, he would have laughed. Sleep had been elusive in the last few days, not surprisingly, but finally revealing the information to Trowa seemed like a weight lifted off his shoulders.  **  
**

Slightly. A minute weight. Like four tons down to three. But better than nothing, he supposed.

“You’re going to catch flies, Trowa.”

Quatre could almost hear the hinges of his jaw creaking. Trowa sputtered like a suffocating fish, floundering for words that could express what he was feeling, but instead squeaked out a barely audible, “How?”

Fuck, if that wasn’t the million dollar question. “I’m...still trying to wrap my head around all this myself and I’m sure I don’t have all the answers yet, but Iria seems to know a lot about this -”

“She does?”

“Yeah. Came as a surprise to me, too.”

“And she didn’t tell you all this before?”

“She -” Quatre rubbed his eyes. They felt gummy and raw, like his lids were made of sandpaper. “It’s...complicated, but she couldn’t tell me. Partly because of bureaucracy, partly because she and my father agreed that it would be in my best interest if I was left in the dark. It’s the main reason why my father didn’t want me going off to war. He wasn’t afraid of me getting killed so much as he was afraid of me encountering someone that the Omega would be interested in.”

Admitting that out loud felt like rubbing salt into an already festering wound, but he swallowed the metaphorically bitter pill and forced himself to focus on the present.

“You make it sound like a living thing.”

“It...kind of is. I mean, it operates on its own terms, not unlike how our reptilian brains still drive our instincts.”

“And when we seduced you, that activated it? But then...it must have already been active, at least on some level.”

“It was dormant. It was just there. Waiting.”

“For us.”

It wasn’t a question, but Quatre nodded anyway. “Yeah, that’s what I gather. I’m so sorry, Trowa.”

“For what? This isn’t your fault.”

“Well, it certainly wasn’t intentional, but still. I forced you all into some sort of cosmic contract with this parasite and now you’re all stuck with me. Maybe if I’d known ahead of time, I could have stopped this before it happened.”

He couldn’t see him, but he knew Trowa was smiling. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Isn’t it?”

“Quat, I love you. I’ve wanted to be with you for a long time now. I’m just sorry I didn’t have the balls to tell you sooner.”

Quatre’s heart warmed at the confession and he sniffed back the tears that threatened to spill down his cheeks. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for you to tell me that. But this isn’t a normal relationship in any sense of the word, Trowa. You’re stuck with me for life. The Omega will never let us break up, or anything of the sort. And...you have to share me with the other guys.”

“Well, I know I’m harboring some jealousy over that, but...I understand and I think we can make this work, somehow.”

“You’re taking this awfully well.”

“Quat, I’ve been through so much worse and I’m still here. This is nothing I can’t handle, especially if it means I get to be with you.”

He closed his eyes and smiled, feeling strangely giddy despite the anxiety of what lay ahead. “When did you become such a hopeless romantic?”

“I blame you. And Duo.”

“Duo? Really?”

“I know, it’s weird, but...I’ve been talking to him quite a lot the past few days. He’s been waxing poetic about you the likes of which I didn’t even know he was capable of.”

“Are you serious?”

“He’s going out of his mind, Quat. He’s taken to calling all three of us several times a day to ‘check in’. He’s gotten so obnoxious that Heero and Wufei stopped answering his calls.”

“That makes me feel even worse.”

Trowa paused, and then added quietly, “Then I suppose I shouldn’t disclose that I haven’t been much better.”

Quatre winced, feeling lower than the dog shit that he still hadn’t gotten around to cleaning off his running shoes. “I’m sorry. I should have called sooner, but I -”

“Quat, it’s okay really. I understand. That was quite a load that got dropped on you and you needed a little time, especially after what we did to you.”

He realized that Trowa had been dealing with his own guilt the last few days and not hearing from Quatre must have been killing him. It was high time to set the record straight. “Look, you didn’t hurt me, okay? You didn’t force me, you didn’t do anything wrong. Got it?”

“Are you sure? We were so aggressive and -”

“You can’t hurt me even if you wanted to. The Omega would never allow it. Besides, I’m not a delicate little flower. I’m not fragile. I know I look the part, but believe me, I’m not. I can take a lot more than what you guys did and still walk away unscathed. I consented to it. If I hadn’t, it would have been obvious. I’m fine, okay?”

“But...was it you consenting, or the Omega?”

Quatre bit his lip and scratched at the leather of his desk blotter with his fingernail. He still wasn’t sure about that. It had felt like his own. He’d freely given it as far as he was concerned, but he still didn’t know all the ins and outs of his own free will and how it was tied in with the Omega. Were any of the decisions he’d ever made his own? Was his desire to join the war efforts really his choice, or was the Omega quietly dictating his behavior in its instinctual need to find its mates?

If that was the case, it was subtle. So subtle that he wasn’t even aware of it and that was perhaps the most disturbing part of all this. Not knowing where he ended and the Omega began.

His answer was tentative, but it was the best he could offer for the time being. “I’m pretty sure it was mine. It felt like me. I wanted it and I did enjoy it. I thought that much was obvious.”

“You were so wet, Quat. I felt like I was almost drugged when I ingested it.”

“It’s called Eroycinnia, or Slick is the slang term, I guess. It comes from the Eroyica gland and I produce it when I become aroused, or when the Omega wants to mate. Apparently, it also reacts to shows of dominance from you guys which is what happened that night.”

“When Heero said your name like that, you went all funny. I swear, I could smell it.”

“Your senses are heightened now more than ever. So are mine. The Eroycinnia kind of has a narcotic effect on Alphas. The gland is just below the prostate and I found out the hard way that it’s also triggered by touch.” He flushed with heat when he remembered the exam and how soaked Iria’s hand was after she’d touched his Eroyica gland. “This is so embarrassing.”

“Who touched it?”

He was startled by the near-growl underlying Trowa’s question and cursed when that familiar pang lanced through his lower belly. Allah, if he could be so deeply affected over such a long distance, he was screwed.

“Iria,” he reassured him quickly, if only to stop the seep of fluid that threatened to leave a stain on the seat of his trousers. “She performed a physical exam to make sure everything was normal.”

The silence was tense and Quatre waited anxiously to see if that subdued the other man’s territorial reaction. Finally, Trowa released a breath that sounded a little shaky. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.”

“It’s okay. Iria said that’s normal. Possessiveness is just par for the course, or so I’m told.”

“Well, I won’t deny that I’ve always sort of been like that with you, but how are we going to make this work?”

“I’ll be honest. I don’t really know. Iria said most of the time, Omegas end up living with their Alphas. Separation anxiety is a major problem so we’re going to have to figure that out. I know you guys have obligations elsewhere so we’ll have to get together to discuss what we’re going to do.”

“Is there anything else I should know right off the bat? I know this is going to be a learning experience for all of us and we’ll take it as we go, but for now I want to be sure I have everything important that I need to know.”

“Well, Iria told me that I’m technically in a committed relationship now so I need to act like it. If I don’t...it could lead to something bad happening. She did say that things will calm down as time goes on, but until we’re all more settled into this situation, it’s going to be hectic. She didn’t say the same for you guys, but I did get the sense that there wouldn’t be much, if any, uh... _nookie_...on the side for any of you.”

“Duo had sex with Hilde.”

“Did he?” Though, that wasn’t necessarily surprising. They’d had umpteen flings as far as Quatre knew, but he’d be lying if he said the news didn’t rattle him a little.

“He was so desperate, he was practically crawling out of his skin and she let him have sex with her in the hopes that it would make him stop trying to dry hump everything,” Trowa said with a snort. “He’s kind of a horn dog.”

 _No shit_. “Did it work?”

“No. He said it didn’t do anything.” Trowa paused and then asked, “Did you sense them at all?”

“No, I didn’t. I had no idea. I’m surprised he hasn’t tried to call me.”

“Oh, believe me, he wanted to. We all did, but we were trying to give you some space.”

“I appreciate that.”

“He needs you...so do I,” Trowa told him in a hushed whisper, raspy with urgency. “And I get the feeling that Heero and Wufei aren’t faring much better than we are.”

“They just hide it better,” Quatre mused. “I’m wondering now if it’s harmful to you, or to me, or to someone else if we wait too long. Iria advised against that, but she didn’t inform me of what could happen. I probably should have asked, but I was overwhelmed.” He leaned back and pressed a hand against his forehead. “I still have to tell them all of this.”

“We’ll do it together. Either we can do a conference call, or we can all meet up somewhere.”

“Perhaps we should meet. I feel like we’re all going to need another round soon anyway.”

“Are you sure you’re up for that?”

“Of course I am! I know it’s only been a few days, but I miss you guys already and...the separation has been hard on me, too. It’s like - it’s like a gnawing hunger and nothing I do will satisfy it. I know what I need and it’s you. It’s all of you.”

In truth, he’d never felt such a void within himself before. He needed their presence to soothe his nerves. He needed their touches, both loving and aggressive. And he needed the sex that he now knew only they could provide to quell this thing inside him that railed for their affections, becoming more and more demanding the longer he denied it of what it desired most.

Allah help him, he wanted to be eaten out, fucked, and then eaten out and fucked again until he forgot his own goddamned name. At this point, the desperation to be dominated by his Alphas far outweighed his sense of morality and shame.

To Hell with decorum.

“I need you, Trowa,” he confessed in a plaintive tone. “I’ve been fighting it, but I know it’s useless and I’m sick of denying it.” Tears of frustration crested over his eyelids and he brushed them away angrily. “This thing in me will not stop until it gets what it wants and it wants you and the others to - to just fucking _take_ me.”

He heard a soft curse on the other end of the line and knew his words had the desired effect. “You’re killing me, Quat.”

He let out a hollow, bitter laugh. “I’m killing myself, I think.”

“But is this something you want?”

“I think so. But...I don’t even care anymore how much of it is the Omega and how much is me. I just don’t care, Trowa.”

“Shit, okay. I feel you there, believe me. Shouldn’t we get together somewhere in public first, though? I don’t think we’ll be able to control ourselves once we see you again. At least not Duo, or I.”

“I thought that at first, too, but I don’t want to take the risk of finding out the hard way that being in public doesn’t matter. I would prefer not to make a scene that I’ll wind up having to explain to the media later. I don’t think any of us will even be able to focus on the topic if we’re all so pent up and if you guys are anything like you were the first time, logic won’t exactly work.”

“You have a point. What do you suggest?”

“Come to my apartment. If there’s anything we need to get out of our systems, and I’m sure there will be, we can get that out of the way first and then we should be able to focus on the rest when our heads are clearer.”

“Okay, that sounds good. Do you want me to call the guys for you?”

“I can contact Heero and Wufei. You can call Duo. I don’t have the energy to deal with him right now,” he said with a laugh. “I love him dearly, but…”

“He’s a handful, I know,” Trowa chuckled. “It’s no problem. I have a performance in forty five minutes so I’ll get in touch with him after. When should we do this?”

“I have to report to work tomorrow. What is it, Tuesday? I’ve been slacking enough as it is and my colleagues are beginning to fret about my absence. I’m sure the rumor mill is becoming quite creative at this point. Can you come Sunday, or is that too long of a wait?”

There was a pained groan on the other end of the line, but Trowa conceded readily enough. “Yeah, if that’s what works for you. Just don’t overwork yourself until then, okay? You sound exhausted, Quat.”

“Understatement of the year,” he agreed.

“Well, try to rest when you can. Are you off Saturday?”

“I’m taking it, yeah. I don’t care if anyone bitches.”

“Good. Take that day just for yourself. I don’t want you half asleep when we show up on Sunday, especially if what we think will happen happens.”

Quatre’s limbs thrummed with a faint buzzing energy as his adrenaline spiked and he tried with valiant effort to control the tremor in his hands. The anticipation of what was to come caused an instant response, as if his fight, or flight instincts had been triggered.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he answered a little too emphatically. “Why?”

“Your respiration is high.” Trowa cursed again. “Fuck, Quat. I can practically hear your heart beating. I don’t know how I’m going to get through the next five days without you.”

 _Fuck, I don't either_. He took a deep breath to calm himself down. It seemed his body’s responses were affecting Trowa, even at such a long distance. It seemed contact of any kind worked as a conduit, even across hundreds of thousands of miles. This inexplicable bond of theirs finding each other through time and space.

He found himself wanting to test that theory and his mouth quirked as a naughty idea wormed its way into his brain. “Hey, Trowa. Are you into phone sex?”

 

*******

 

He lifted his foot out of the water and used his toes to turn the tap off. Sinking down until he was submerged up to his chin in soothing hot, lavender-scented bubbles, he let out a long gratuitous moan and closed his eyes. It was quiet but for the occasional drip of water into the tub and he had to keep reminding himself not to doze off.

He was relaxed now, languid and ready for sleep after getting less than four hours in the last three days. Trowa had been fully on board when he’d suggested phone sex and his gravelly, “Fuck yes,” had gone right to Quatre’s loins, igniting his blood and prompting his Eroyica gland to kick into high gear.

They’d had to rush since Trowa had less than a half an hour before his performance. Quatre didn’t even bother to take their business to his bedroom, instead shucking his trousers and slouching in his desk chair with his legs draped over the leather-padded arms. He’d whimpered and moaned like a porn star as Trowa whispered the most delightful filth into his ear while he dug his fingers into his body and brought himself to a swift and earth-shattering climax.

He’d soaked not only his hand, but the chair and rug beneath it, though hearing Trowa groaning through his own orgasm was well worth the mess and the slight repulsion he still experienced when he produced it. Iria assured him the discomfort would lessen with time and he hoped she was right. He supposed his visceral reaction was normal considering it wasn’t exactly a typical bodily function for a man.

Of course, it wasn’t as good as the actual sex with Trowa and the guys, but surprisingly, it managed to calm the Omega at least for the time being. Perhaps just hearing Trowa’s voice through it all was enough for the parasite that resided within him to be satisfied.

“It better be because that’s the best you’re going to get until Sunday, you greedy bastard.”

Strange, but he’d begun talking to it as though it were sentient and maybe it was on some level. In some weird sense, he almost thought it could hear him at times and if that was true, maybe there was room for negotiation.

On his desk still sat the pile of information Iria had given him to pour over and he snorted when he remembered the pamphlet. It was a tri-folded, glossy brochure with photos of couples toasting each other in front of a roaring fire, smiling like they had some sinister secret over a candlelight dinner, and frolicking like children at the beach. The title on the front spelled out, in large swooping font no less, _‘So You’re An Omega. What Happens Now?’_

“Can’t believe someone actually made a brochure,” he chortled, scooping bubbles onto his finger and then blowing them into the air. He reached for his wine glass that stood on the tile ledge surrounding the tub and sniffed the bouquet like a snooty socialite at a fancy vineyard.

“Mild, earthy...with a trace of cherry -” sniff “- cedar and -” sniff “- and tertiary notes of gay orgy.” He snickered into the glass and took a sip, swishing the Cabernet around in his mouth before he swallowed it. “Oh, Mother. There is so much I could have learned from you,” he said wistfully. “You would have told me about all this. I don’t know how I know that, but I do. I wish you were here to guide me through this.”

He tipped his head back onto the shell-shaped inflatable bath pillow and blinked up at the ceiling. “I’m so fucked, aren’t I?”

 

*******

 

“Quatre?”

“Hello, Heero. How are you?” Quatre gave his friend a cautionary smile as he looked him over. Heero appeared rather haggard, more so than usual. The bags beneath his eyes were prominent and his tangled hair looked like it hadn’t been brushed in a few weeks. “You look like shit.”

Heero gave him a wry look. “Thanks. I’m fine, though. Just been working. How are you? You just get out of the shower?”

Quatre could sense his concern beneath the carefully schooled stoic expression, but decided to play things by ear. “Bath, actually. I’m sorry I didn’t call you sooner. I was preoccupied.”

“Understandable. I...wanted to call, but I didn’t know how to -” he sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. His aura screamed of agitation and fatigue. “I couldn’t find the words to express how sorry I am...about what happened.”

“Heero, it’s fine. I’m fine. I already talked to Trowa.”

“I figured you would get in touch with him first.”

He could detect a hint of jealousy in Heero’s tone, but chose to ignore it for the moment. “I told him what was going on and...well, I need to tell the rest of you and I think it would be best if we all got together.”

Heero shifted, looking deeply uncomfortable. Duo had once dubbed it his ‘constipation face’. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Quatre. After -”

Quatre held up a hand to stop the self-deprecating speech that he knew was coming. _Jesus, maybe I’ve rubbed off on them more than I thought._ “It is. Trust me on this, okay?”

“But what if it happens again?”

“I’m prepared for that and it’s fine. There is a reason for all this and look, it’s going to happen, but trust me when I tell you I’m perfectly okay with that. Once we’re done, I’ll explain everything.”

“Can’t you just tell me now?”

“It would take way too long and I haven’t even called Wufei yet. It’s best if we do this in person.”

“Are you sure about this, Quatre? I mean, you actually want us to do that again? And then you’re not even going to tell us until _after?_ ”

“I’m positive. Once we come face to face again, none of us are going to be able to think straight anyway, so I’m prepared for whatever happens. Then after, when we’re all coherent again, I’ll tell you all everything I know about this so far.”

“How did you find out?”

“My sister.”

“The doctor?”

“Yes.”

“Hm.” Heero stared down at his desk and was silent for a few moments. Quatre took the opportunity to look behind him and balked at the state of his usually neat and tidy room. “What the hell happened to your room?”

Heero blinked dazedly at him and then he slowly turned his head to look at the mess as if he had no clue what Quatre was talking about. “Oh, it’s...nothing.”

“That doesn’t look like nothing,” he said, observing the numerous holes in the walls and Heero’s belongings strewn about. “It looks like you were robbed, or raided by ESUN. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Heero insisted with a tone of impatience.

“You’re not fine, Heero.”

“Look, it’s been hard, okay?” Heero shouted and slammed his hand down onto his desk, startling Quatre with his sudden vehemence. He leaned in, so close to his screen that Quatre could see only one blue eye. His voice was so loud as he spoke into the microphone that it sounded distorted and Quatre instinctively turned the volume down. “I haven’t been able to sleep. I’m going fucking crazy because I can’t stop thinking about you and then I feel like total shit because I don’t have the right to think about you like that.”

Allah, but this was destroying them all. What had he done? “Heero, it’s okay. You do have the right. Please, don’t do this to yourself. I told you there’s a reason.”

Heero’s visible eye closed and Quatre’s heart broke as he watched a tear slide over the ridge of his cheekbone. “I need you, Quatre. I’ve never needed anyone, or anything like this and I’m - I’m so scared. I don’t know what it means. I can’t stop touching myself and it doesn’t do any good anyway and then I just wind up hating myself even more. I feel like I’m being tortured!”

“Okay, Heero. Just calm down, alright? I’m going to help you.”

“How?”

“Right now? I’m going to take the edge off. Are you hard?”

Heero reared back and stared at him as though he’d grown two heads. “What?”

Quatre summoned what little patience he had left and realized that he’d probably have to do this with Wufei, too. “Is your dick hard, Heero?”

Heero gave him a distinctive ‘duh’ look. “It hasn’t _stopped_ being hard.”

“Okay, take it out and stroke it.”

The other man looked hilariously scandalized. “Quatre! I'm - I'm not sure this is a good -”

“Do you want to feel better, or not?”

Heero paused, his eyes flitting around suspiciously. “Is this a joke?”

 _Christ_. Quatre propped his chin on his hand. “Does it feel like a joke?”

“...No?”

“Look, it seemed to work for both me and Trowa, okay? Can you trust me, please?”

Heero glanced down at his lap and then back up at Quatre who almost wept from the hopeful shine of his eyes. “Are we really doing this?”

“Do you want to?”

His eyes closed in resignation and then after a pregnant pause, he finally nodded. “Yes. If it will help then, yes.”

 

*******

 

Three additional rounds of phone sex later, Quatre dropped down onto the bed so hard, he bounced off the springs a few times. He turned his face into the pillow, groaning when he inhaled the scent of his friends that still clung to the cotton after their first round of sex.

“Fucking shit.”

He’d gotten not only Trowa off, but Heero, Wufei, and Duo as well as himself each time he whispered words that before all of this happened, would have made him blush to the roots of his hair. Now, the dirty talk only fueled his arousal and before he even knew what he was doing, he was naked from the waist down with two fingers buried up his ass, in full view of the other men.

He’d never even touched his own dick. Didn’t need to and that was a first. He’d only had sex a handful of times before that first momentous encounter a few nights ago and no matter how good the fucking was, he’d always needed stimulation to his cock to reach orgasm. Fingering himself was something he was long accustomed to, having done it routinely since he was fourteen, but that also required the stroking of his cock to get off.

Coming untouched and so often in such a short span of time was an experience like nothing else and it left him feeling euphoric, but also completely drained.

Though it seemed to do the trick just as it had with Trowa. Quatre couldn’t stop thinking about the relief he saw in their eyes after watching them come all over themselves. The way their tense muscles relaxed, probably for the first time in days. The way their bodies slumped with languid satiation, and their dopey smiles enough to let him know he’d done a sufficient job.

He rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling with eyes droopy from four climaxes and a few too many glasses of wine. “As Heero would say: Mission accomplished.”

At the very least, this little experiment gave him some hope. If they could temporarily satisfy each other this way, it would be very helpful during times when they couldn’t be together. Duo and Wufei were relatively easy as they didn’t travel much, but as head of security for the Vice Foreign Minister, Heero was required to move around a lot as was Trowa who went on tour six months out of the year.

If nothing else, he could at least help them to cope during times of separation and hopefully prevent them from losing their minds. That meant that no one had to give up their livelihoods over this. They could still hold onto their careers, allowing them to keep their own individual identities and that made Quatre feel much better about their prospective future.

One of his worst fears had been any of them harboring resentment towards him if it came down to them having to give up aspects of their lives for him. That was the last thing he wanted.

So this was promising, possibly even workable. And if Duo had sex with Hilde with seemingly no issues, then they might even be able to pursue other relationships if they chose to do so. For Quatre, that appeared to be out of the question, but as long as he wasn’t hindering the romantic lives of his friends, he could live with that.

He’d been pining for Trowa for years anyway and now he knew his feelings were reciprocated. What started out as the silly crush of a fifteen year old, had now evolved into real love and devotion and Trowa didn’t seem to mind the unusual circumstances.

“Hmmm...maybe this isn’t so bad after all,” he mumbled into his pillow as he curled his legs up towards his chest and settled down to sleep. He felt pleasantly drowsy, enough that he was sure he would finally get a good night’s rest.

He was going to need it. Tomorrow, he would arrive at WEI as a newly ordained Omega. There was a slight flutter of trepidation at the thought, wondering if anyone would notice anything different about him. Was it obvious to the average person, or was it something invisible to those who didn’t know what to look for? Did he look different? Sound different? Smell different?

His fading consciousness dimly recalled Iria’s warning about the threat of other Alphas. He had no idea how many Alphas, or potential Alphas there were out there. Were there any at work? And if so, who? Would they notice any change in him, or be able to detect his Omega?

“Mmm, so many Alphas, so little time,” he slurred and then began to drift off, into a world where nothing, yet everything made sense in their own peculair way.

Oddly enough, he dreamed of clocks. Lots of clocks. A giant room filled with clocks from ceiling to floor. Grandfather clocks, cuckoo clocks, even digital clocks, all ticking in time. There was a sense of urgency about them, as if he was running out of time, but to do what?

When they counted down to the final moment and began to chime, the haunting tones of hollow brass began to fade into the distance and was replaced by the more electronic sound of a digital alarm clock filtering through the dreamy haze. Once his brain was cognizant enough to realize his alarm was going off, he snaked a hand out from beneath the warmth of the covers and slapped the ‘snooze’ button. But he didn’t go back to sleep, instead peeking out from under the blankets to watch the artificial sunlight transform from a deep blue, to a faint pink.

He sat up and groggily rubbed his eyes, feeling a little disoriented. He hadn’t slept that deeply in years. Even stranger was the realization that the dream began soon after he’d fallen asleep and yet it seemed to last the whole night. By his own estimation, the dream had only lasted at the most, twenty minutes.

He shook his head to clear away the cobwebs and climbed out of bed, heading for the shower. As he tipped his head beneath the spray of water, he begged the Omega to spare him any unpleasant workplace embarrassments.

“At this point, I’ll settle for no spontaneous erections, impromptu leaking, or bouts of uncontrollable horniness. Work with me here, okay? If you want my cooperation, you’re going to have to give me a little, too. Deal?”

He got no obvious response from the Omega, not that he actually expected one, but for some reason, that eerie feeling returned and left him slightly unsettled. It was that feeling that told him, somehow, on some level, the Omega had heard him. And it understood every word.

He still hadn’t made up his mind whether that was a good, or a bad thing.


	9. The Best Medicine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woooooooooooo! Okay, so I updated obvi. Lol. This chapter is in Wufei's POV and will feature more phone smex, though more graphic than the last chapter. Mutual masturbation and all that schizz, with perhaps a sprinkle of ominous foreshadowing? Hmmm...who knows? ~.^
> 
> Thanks for reading! Drop me a line and let me know what you think so far!

_Tuesday, December 16th, 5:48pm. L5 X3521, District two..._

Wufei had no idea which way was up anymore. At one point, he’d even forgotten his partner’s name while discussing a case over the phone with her and the look Sally had given him was indicative enough that there was something terribly wrong.

“Are you sure you’re alright? You look like you haven’t slept in a week.”  
  
He merely nodded, unable to find the words to explain what had happened. How did you explain to a superior and friend that you’d participated in something you could barely admit to yourself you were capable of?  
  
“I’m fine. Just...bad dreams and stress.” It wasn’t a lie at least.  
  
Sally’s face softened with sympathy. “I’m afraid that’s something we’re all plagued with. Anything I can do?”  
  
“No, but thank you.”  
  
“Tell you what? Why don’t you take a few days off to rest. I’ll clear it with Une. I’m sure she’ll be okay with it.”  
  
“Sally, no. I’m alright, really.”  
  
She grinned at him from behind the screen. It was a grin he’d grown quite accustomed to in the last few years. One that told him he’d already lost the argument. “You look like you’re about to pass out. Stay home. Rest. And then come back in a few days when you’ve gotten some sleep. I’m going to write a prescription for Valium. It’s a small dose, but it should be enough to relax you so you can get a decent night’s rest.”  
  
“Do I have to?”  
  
“Doctor’s orders.”  
  
On second thought, a good night’s sleep didn’t sound too bad. He was just tired enough not to put up much of a fight and if it kept the maddening thoughts of a certain blond out of his head for just a few hours, he was willing to admit defeat.  
  
For now.  
  
“Alright, I’ll take you up on that actually.”  
  
Sally looked pleasantly surprised. “Wow. Never thought I’d hear that from you. Are you sure you’re okay otherwise? Would you like to speak to one of the therapists we have on standby?”  
  
_God, no!_ “No, that’s alright. If I feel like I need that, I’ll let you know, but I’d rather just see how I feel after I sleep.”  
  
“Fair enough. I’ll have my pharmacist drop that Valium off for you. You might want to try just a half and if that isn’t enough, then you can take the other half.”  
  
“Thank you, Sally.”  
  
“Don’t thank me. Just rest and feel better. I expect you to be looking a little more human when you come back.” She paused, hesitant as if she was mulling something over and Wufei suddenly felt stripped bare and flayed to the bone. 

“What is it?”  
  
“I don’t know.” She stared intently at him and rubbed her chin. “It’s subtle, but...there’s something different about you. I can’t really put my finger on it.”  
  
“Different, how?”  
  
“Maybe it’s just the lighting, or the fact that you’re tired," she mused.  
  
“What, Sally? Just tell me!”  
  
She leaned back and observed him in contemplative silence, drumming her fingers on her desk. Wufei shifted in his chair, unnerved by the scrutiny. It felt like she could see right through him. See the chaos of his mind and he did his best to block out the vivid memories and fantasies of Quatre laying naked and supine beneath him. He felt judged, like a man condemned for unspeakable acts and his cheeks flushed with heat as he waited for the verdict.  
  
“Your eyes are different,” she finally told him. “I mean, they’ve always been expressive. Passionate, but...they seem almost wild now. Feral. Like you’re desperately seeking something, but you can’t find it.”  
  
That hit a little too close for comfort. It was exactly how he’d felt ever since he left L4 three days ago. He’d been hoping it would fade, but the gnawing hunger that made his limbs twitch with restlessness was only getting worse as time wore on. It was part of the reason he could not sleep. His body and his mind were unable to find peace and in some inexplicable way, he knew there was only one thing that could provide him that peace.  
  
Rather, one _person_.  
  
He cleared his throat and looked away, feeling exposed and filthy as if he’d been caught committing a heinous crime. “Probably just because I haven’t slept,” he lied, knowing full well that wasn’t it. He saw that same predatory gleam during brief moments of reprieve in between the menacing black haze of carnality and desire when he was able to bring himself to look in the mirror. Which right now, wasn’t very often. In all honesty, he hadn’t looked in the mirror since yesterday morning for that very reason. He was terrified of his own reflection.  
  
“Is there something you’re not telling me, Wufei?”

 _Sally, please, please, please do not ask me that._ “No, not really. I think I’m just...I don’t know...listless. I’m stressed out over this case, I’m exhausted, I haven’t been sleeping well. I think you’re right and I just need a few days to recoup.” _And beat off until my dick bleeds._

He’d never masturbated so much in his entire life. Not even during puberty when he’d first discovered the magic of it. Thank Christ Sally had accidentally left her face cream at his flat after they’d pulled an all-nighter on the Dresden case. Without it, he’d be chafed to hell and back. He ticked off a mental note to pick her up another jar before he saw her again. He only hoped she didn’t ask about it considering the residue from his last wank just thirty minutes earlier lingered on his cock and his palm. He could still smell the faint flowery scent of it.

The wank hadn’t helped his current condition. Neither did the wank before that, nor the wank before that. He got, at most, a few minutes of relief before his cock was springing up again and throbbing for attention. He’d given up any semblance of resistance, especially when his mind inevitably turned to Quatre. Not even his attempts to think of someone else, or better yet nothing at all, worked. The fantasies returned before he was conscious of them and by then, he was helpless to stop the visions of the blond in various states of undress, positions, and debauchery.

They were the most erotic fantasies he’d ever had. So powerful, he was near tears when he beat off to them. And when he came, he only hated himself more.

“I’m worried about you,” Sally said, her voice breaking through the wall of clustered thoughts.

He nodded and rubbed his eyes. “I know you are and I am sorry for that. I’m sure I’ll be fine in a few days. I’m not going to do anything stupid, or reckless, if that’s what you’re worried about.” _At least I hope not._

He couldn’t promise anything if Quatre actually showed up on his doorstep, though there really wasn’t any reason for him to do so. Wufei would be surprised if he talked to any of them ever again other than to tell them they were perverts and to stay the hell away from him.

“Okay, if you say so. I’m taking your word for it, just so you know.”

“I know. Thanks again. For everything.”

“Call me if you need anything. I mean, _anything_ , Wufei. I don’t care what time it is. If you need me, just call, okay?”

He smiled. “I will. I promise.”

“I sent your prescription over so the pharmacist should be there in less than an hour.”

Ah, sweet relief. It was coming soon. He could make it that long. “Thanks.”

“Alright, I have to go. I’ll speak to Une and have you cleared for a few sick days.”

“Talk to you soon, Sally.”

“Take care.”

He pressed the button to end the call and then buried his face in his hands. “Fuck, what am I even doing?” His groin throbbed in response and he glared down at the tented pitch of his trousers. Oh, what the hell? He had time to beat another one out before the pharmacist showed up with his pills.

He leaned back in his chair and unzipped his fly, delving his hand inside to pull his cock out. A little extra coat of Sally’s face cream and then he was off, working his palm up and down his aching length. When Quatre predictably emerged in his mind’s eye, he tipped his head back and let the fantasies take him away, too exhausted to fight it anymore.

 

*******

 

The Valium waited on the little table beside his bed. The bright orange bottle seemed the epitome of all that was wrong with him, else why would he even need it? He’d never been dependent on chemicals before, for anything and he was proud of that. Allowing himself to ingest a drug, a barbiturate of all things, felt like admitting defeat. It felt like giving into weakness.

Before now, he’d never needed help with anything and he prided himself on being entirely self-reliant. This situation...whatever it was...scared him in more ways than one and if he needed assistance now, when would it end? Would it ever end, or was he doomed to lead a life of leaning on others to get what he needed?

_Jesus, I'm becoming more paranoid than Yuy._

And if he never saw Quatre again, would this unbearable arousal ever go away, or would he go mad and do something crazy like cut his own dick off, or jump out of a twenty story window? Even if he did see Quatre again, would he be able to contain himself? He certainly didn’t expect the blond to bend over every time he sprung a stiffy.

“Nothing else for it, Wufei. Just suck it up, take your shower, and then take the pill. Maybe after you sleep, you’ll gain some semblance of sanity back.”

What was really unnerving was the fact that Heero, Trowa, and Duo were in similar dire straits. If nothing else, he wasn’t alone in this, though far be it for him to be comfortable enough to confide in any of them beyond the basics.

Heero and Trowa for the most part were as reserved as he was, though he could see them beginning to fall apart at the seams. Duo had no such reservations and wasn’t above whining about how his dick hurt to anyone within earshot.

He’d finally snapped Wufei’s tenuous control two days ago when Duo called yet again to complain about blue balls, prompting Wufei to bark, “Yeah, well my dick hurts, too,” before slamming his computer closed. Not his proudest moment, but at least it was honest. That was the last time he’d spoken to the other man as he’d been screening his calls ever since.

He stepped into the shower and groaned as the hot water soothed muscles that were achy with fatigue. His cock was hard once again and he cursed as he stared down at it. “You just don’t quit, do you? Well, forget it. I’ve given you enough attention. Tonight, we’re both going to sleep.” And if the Valium didn’t work, he might actually consider an ice pack just to shut it up for awhile.

When he returned to his room, he saw the flashing red light of an incoming call on his computer and huffed with exasperation. Was it possible for anyone to leave him alone for five minutes, or was that just too much to ask? He sat down in his chair and lifted the screen to see who was calling and his heart thumped against his rib cage when he realized it was Quatre.

The possible reasons for this call scrolled their way across his mind, ranging from a scathing barrage of insults to begging Wufei to come to L4 immediately because he’d finally realized that they were meant to be together. His finger hovered over the connect button, bracing himself for the worst, and then pushed it.

Quatre's face appeared, looking surprised. “Oh! Hi, Wufei. I was about to hang up. I thought you weren’t home.”

God, he looked absolutely, positively delectable. Radiant even and how was that possible when the rest of them looked like shit run over twice? Wufei’s eyes caressed the lovely curves and angles of the blond’s face, from the high, porcelain cheekbones, to the deep-set aqua eyes framed by long lashes, and down to the sensuous shape of his plush lips which were moving in inquiry, he realized. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

Those sinful lips quirked just slightly. “I said, how have you been?”

“Oh, fine. Yeah,” he said with a little too much forced enthusiasm. “Yeah, I’m good. Peachy-keen actually. You?”

Quatre gave him a knowing look as if he knew Wufei was lying through his teeth. “Better now.”

Well, wasn’t that just swell. “Oh. That’s good.” He blatantly ignored the painful throb that emanated up from his groin like heat waves on hot pavement and rubbed his sweaty palms on his pajama pants. It was difficult to think when face to face with the object of his lust and he grasped desperately to form a coherent sentence that wasn’t along the lines of, ‘Goddamn, you look good enough to eat. Can I come over and fuck your brains out?’

“Quatre, look. I wanted to apologize for -”

“Don’t.”

“What? Why not?”

“Because it wasn’t your fault. It’s not your fault and you have nothing to be sorry for.”

Wufei narrowed his eyes, instantly suspicious. “What do you know?”

“Enough.”

“Tell me. What is this? Why is this happening?”

“I will tell you. Soon. Come back to L4 on Sunday and I’ll explain everything.”

“Quatre, I don’t think that’s a good -”

“Trust me. I’m prepared for what is likely to happen and I’m fine with it.”

“Why, though?”

“Everything will make sense on Sunday. I promise you. I just want to get all of you together when I explain it, but I promise, everything you’re feeling and going through right now...there’s a reason for it.”

 _Oh, thank Christ!_ “I thought there was something terribly wrong with me.”

“No, there’s not. There’s nothing wrong with any of you. The situation is...unusual, but what you’re experiencing is quite normal.”

Wufei’s brain piqued with interest. What could this possibly be if what he was dealing with was normal?

“It’s nothing you’ve ever heard of before, I assure you. But it is normal," Quatre insisted, sensing his doubt.

He felt like weeping with relief and he rubbed his hands over his face as he let out a long breath. “I thought for sure you hated us all for what we did.”

“Quite the contrary.”

“Quatre, I’ve been going out of my mind! I’ve never felt so pent up before in my life and every time I close my eyes...all I see is you.”

“There’s a reason for that, too. But...there is something that will help you. Help to hold you over until Sunday, I mean.”

“Are you implying that sex with you will make this go away?”

“It will. Temporarily. It will come back, but contact with me will give you longer lasting relief than what you’re doing now.”

He blushed, but didn’t bother to deny it. Quatre already knew and Wufei's guilty expression no doubt confirmed it. “So how can you help me?”

“I can help you get off. Over the phone, I mean. It seems to work.”

“You’re talking about phone sex.”

“Yeah. I called Trowa first and we did it. He said he felt much better and when I did the same with Heero, he also felt better. We may have to do this again in a day, or two, but it should satisfy you enough to be able to function for a couple of days.”

Well, fuck. If Quatre was right, this would be an answer to his prayers. He glanced down at the pitched tent in his lap, shivering as a giddy thrill raced through his bloodstream, and he wondered when he’d become so shameless. “Alright.”

“Great.” Quatre clapped his hands like a gym teacher who’d just announced a game of kickball and stood up to remove his clothing.

“What are you doing?”

The blond paused with his t-shirt halfway up his torso. “I’m doing this with you. Seems more effective that way.”

“Wait. You said you did this with Trowa and Heero already?”

“Yep,” Quatre confirmed, peeling his shirt the rest of the way off. Wufei was torn between a surge of jealousy over the fact that he'd come in third, and a rush of powerful lust as he stared at the toned muscles that shifted beneath the creamy skin of Quatre’s chest and belly.

The blond had always been slender, willowy even, and to this day he was still the smallest of all of them. Though he’d filled out a little since his scrawny teenage days, he was destined to always be slender, taking after his mother’s side of the family of fair, lissome beauties.

Quatre’s fingers ceased their fumbling at the ties holding his sleep pants up and he lifted a brow at Wufei's gawking face. “Are you going to get undressed, or just stare at me?”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry.” His hands trembled as he hooked his thumbs into the elastic waistband and tugged his pants down over his hips. His cock sprung up, slapping against his belly and leaving a smear of precome that oozed from the tip.

“For some reason, masturbation on its own does nothing, but if we can see, or hear each other, that seems to work,” Quatre told him.

“Let’s hope I’m as lucky as the other two.”

“I’m sure you will be.”

Wufei watched the jarring shift of Quatre’s torso as the blond readjusted his computer’s camera and he realized why a moment later when Quatre sat back in his chair and draped his legs over the arms. Wufei now had an unobstructed view between the other man’s legs and his saliva glands kicked into full gear as he stared, or rather ogled Quatre’s glistening opening. “Did you...did you lube yourself up for this, or…?”

Quatre smiled and dropped his hand between his thighs, two fingers teasing over the tiny rosebud between his cheeks. “Don’t need to. It’s the same stuff from the other night.”

 _Oh, fucking Christ!_  Wufei leaned forward and placed his arm on his desk, resting his chin on top while his other hand drifted towards his straining cock which felt like it was ready to detach from his body, jump through the screen, and bury itself inside the blond. “You have no idea how badly I want to taste you again.”

Quatre’s eyes fluttered closed and Wufei watched the tip of his finger press through the ring of his opening. He squeezed his cock as a throb of dark lust lanced through his groin. “You have no idea how badly I want you taste me again.”

“Did you like that?”

“I loved it. It was the most incredible thing I’ve ever felt. The way you all went at me like - like you couldn't get enough.”

“We couldn't," Wufei admitted. "You tasted so sweet, Quatre. I felt drugged...like I was high, or something.”

“So did I. Your mouth...and your cock felt so good. I can’t wait until I see you again. All the things I want you to do to me...I get so wet every time I think about it.”

Wufei bit into the flesh of his forearm as his body responded to the promise, spoken in Quatre's sweet lilt. If he managed to survive until Sunday, it would be a miracle. He stared intently at Quatre’s fingers, watching them disappear inside his body and felt a wicked urge to hit 'record' so that he could relive this enchanting vision at the click of a button. “I’m going to bury my face between your legs and lap you up until you scream and come all over yourself.”

A visible shudder traveled through Quatre’s body. “Yes. I need that so much. I’ve been dying without you here.”

“And then I’m going to fuck you so hard, you won’t be able to walk for a week.”

“Mmm...yeah. In my mind, you’re already doing that.”

Wufei’s world melted away until there was nothing left of the last three days. The agony, the fatigue, the _torture_ faded into the background until it seemed to be nothing more than a distant memory. Only the two of them existed and he realized that, yes, this was going to work. Whatever was going on, this was the answer, at least for now.

And that would be enough. It had to be.

“That’s right, baby,” he slurred, the words coming unbidden now and any sense of morality, or modesty, or aloofness he’d harbored as a source of personal pride suddenly meant absolutely nothing. The only thing that mattered was Quatre and he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that if they weren’t officially lovers now, they would be very soon because this beautiful blond man was his and he would fight anyone who dared to challenge his claim.

“That’s right," he repeated, dropping his voice to a low, rumbling timbre. "It’s me fucking you right now. It’s me touching those places inside you where you crave to be touched. Am I loving you good, baby?”

“Fuck, yes,” Quatre whimpered as his hand sped up the pace. He dug his fingers in deep and his thighs trembled from the overwhelming pleasure. He was completely soaked now, the mysterious fluid spilling down his hand, over his wrist, and dripping onto the padded seat beneath him and Wufei lamented his inability to kneel down before him in worship and lap up every drop. What a waste. “M’gonna come, Fei.”

“So am I, baby. Let it go. Let it go for me. You’re so beautiful when you come.” His own hand worked faster over his length, his climax rising up like a tidal wave and threatening to sweep him away to a place where time no longer mattered. “Let me see you.”

Quatre’s back arched against the chair and he sucked in a sharp breath. There was a moment of silence, like the calm before a storm, and then the blond’s cock erupted, splashing his seed up his chest and over his belly. It was coupled with a simultaneous rush of clear fluid from his opening, drenching his hand and Wufei swore he could _smell_ it. “Oh - oh, Allah! Fuck _..._ it's s - so _good_.”

It was all Wufei needed to drive him over the cliff into blinding euphoria. He roared, his body locking up and his cock twitching in his palm as come splattered across his torso and puddled in the dips between his taut muscles. He shivered and cursed and shook his way through the ecstasy, panting with exertion until the tumultuous waves subsided.

He blinked away the stars in his vision, disoriented and unable to form a coherent thought for a minute until he saw Quatre through the screen looking much the same way. His body felt like mush, but also miraculously satisfied. He’d only climaxed that strongly once before in his entire life and that was a few days ago. “Holy shit.”

Quatre’s grin was dopey with satiety as he slumped in his chair with the remnants of his orgasm cooling on his chest and a large puddle of fluid beneath his ass. The very definition of debauchery. “Mmmm...holy shit is right.”

Wufei looked down at his cock in amazement, now soft and apparently content. “By God, I think it worked.”

“Told you so.”

“Quatre...I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Feel better then?”

He felt weaker than a newborn calf, but also like a million bucks and like he could sleep for a month solid. Perhaps he wouldn’t need the Valium after all. He lifted a shaky hand and pushed his sweaty hair away from his face. “I feel incredible!” Calm, collected, and able to think clearly again.

“Good. And no need to thank me. It was the least I could do.”

“I’m just dying to know what this is all about now.” Ten minutes ago, he couldn’t have cared less. Now that his body seemed to be back in somewhat of its normal state, his need to know what was going on became the priority.

“You will find out very soon. I promise you.”

“Is it bad?”

Quatre looked down and shook his hand to rid it of the excess fluid and Wufei impulsively wanted to suck the stuff right off his fingers. “Not really. It doesn’t have to be. It is a little uh….life-changing, I suppose. But not anything you can’t handle.”

“I see.” _Not really, but whatever._

“Just...try to keep an open mind, okay?”

Wufei watched the blond in silence as he stood up to wipe himself down with his t-shirt. “I feel personally attacked right now.”

Quatre chuckled. “Nothing personal. I said the same thing to Trowa and Heero.”

“So...you haven’t done this with Duo?”

“Not yet. He’s next on my list.”

Wufei preened. It was absurd, but he was proud that he hadn’t come in last and he tamped down on the urge to gloat. “I can’t believe you’re going to do this all over again after three times in a row.”

Quatre shrugged as he slipped his pants back on. “Something I’m going to have to get used to, I guess.”

“Are you really okay with whatever this is?”

“I’m better now than I was when I first found out. I think I’m starting to accept it.”

He leaned back and studied the blond. “This is permanent, isn’t it? Whatever it is, it’s not going to go away.”

Quatre’s expression was decidedly remorseful as he sat back down and folded his hands on top of his desk. “I’m afraid not.”

“But you won’t tell me now.”

“It’s better if we do this in person.”

“Alright. I trust you.”

“I appreciate that. And, this may come back. This is all new to me, too, so I haven’t tested the theory of how long this reprieve will last. So...if and when it comes back, just call me and we’ll do this again.”

“I will.” He smiled and stretched his muscles, elated when the maddening buzz of restlessness seemed to be gone. “I think I might actually sleep tonight.”

“Same here. I haven’t been in much better shape than any of you, so...I’m looking forward to a good night’s sleep. Especially since I have to work tomorrow.”

“Sounds like fun. Sally told me to take a few days off.”

“I’m happy to hear that. You probably need it. I slacked off the last few days, so I have to go back tomorrow.” Wufei chuckled when Quatre's face twisted with disgust.

“Yeah, but you’re the boss so no one is allowed to give you a hard time.”

“Doesn’t mean they won’t try to. Anyway, I’m going to hop off here and get a snack before I call Duo.”

Wufei’s heart throbbed with sympathy. Whatever was happening, it wasn’t fair that Quatre had to exhaust himself by doing this over and over again. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Quatre said, pinning that familiar smile he typically used for the benefit of others on his face.

“It’s not. It’s not right that you’re forced to do this.”

“Maybe not, but if I have to do it, there’s no one else I would rather do it for than you guys.”

“Flatterer.”

“It’s true. I love you guys more than anything. I would do anything for you.”

Wufei leaned forward and peered into the screen, needing to make sure the blond knew that the feeling was mutual. “And we would do anything for you, too. You know that, right?”

Quatre winked cutely, looking like a rumpled cherub. “I know that. I hope you sleep well.”

“You, too. I’ll see you Sunday, if not before then.” He prayed this lull would last until the weekend, not wanting to put Quatre on the spot unless he absolutely had to. “Take care of yourself, baby.”

He was sure the surprise on Quatre’s face at the pet name was reflected on his own. It was one thing to say that in the heat of the moment. It was quite another after the fact. “Goodnight, Wufei.”

The screen went black and he winced, giving himself a mental slap across the face. _Why in the hell did I do that?_ Of course, it wasn’t intentional. It slipped out of his mouth before he was even aware of it, something that was becoming increasingly alarming.

And since when had he begun thinking of the blond in such an intimate way?

He got up and dragged himself over to his bed, vowing to apologize as soon as they spoke again. Perhaps he’d send Quatre an email in the morning to let him know he hadn’t meant that. For some inexplicable reason, he was anxious about scaring the blond off. This was new territory indeed.

He crawled under the covers and laid down on his side, staring at the bottle of Valium. He briefly wondered if he should take one anyway, but the heaviness of his limbs and eyelids told him he didn’t need it. He knew that tonight, sleep would not be a problem. With the last of his energy, he reached up, fumbling for the lamp switch, and then engulfed his room in darkness.

It took less than twenty minutes for him to drift off and he slept deeper than he had in years. He dreamed vividly, he knew that, but by the time his alarm clock went off at seven, he could only remember fragments of them, like a puzzle that was missing key pieces.

What he could remember left him feeling haunted. There were flickering memories of gazing into the mirror and seeing a monster staring back at him. All red glowing eyes and razor-sharp teeth on the surface, though he could still see glimpses of the real him behind it, occasionally appearing in opaque shades of gray.

There were bits and pieces of dreams that featured physical and sexual violence and it frightened him because he couldn’t remember if it was his own hands that were doing the ravaging. There was an image of Quatre, naked, restrained, and nearly catatonic with his creamy skin covered in welts and bite marks. And they weren’t the kind of marks that could be construed as kinky. They were vicious, bruised and bloody, marring that perfect skin with the taint of unspeakable brutality.

He remembered feeling rage, stronger than anything he’d ever felt before, as if he’d been possessed by something that could only come from the deepest recesses of Hell. Something he would only read about in books like Dante’s Inferno. It vibrated and simmered beneath his flesh like a living thing, giving off heat to rival that of the sun.

There was something otherworldly about the dreams and not in the normal sense where dreams often seem that way. They left him feeling shaken and raw when woke up in the morning and saw the artificial light of L5 streaming in through his bedroom blinds.

Though he couldn’t remember, he was almost certain that he was not the culprit and neither were the other four ex-pilots. He didn’t know how he knew that, but he did. It wasn’t any of them who’d hurt Quatre in his dreams, but rather something he couldn’t see. Something elusive, intangible, like a dark faceless entity. A disembodied demon, perhaps.

He ran a hand through his mussed hair as he sat down at the table to eat his breakfast of rice porridge and tea. He was hungrier than he’d been in days and he scarfed down the food so fast, his stomach churned with queasiness afterwards. So far, his cock had remained soft and despite the lingering discomfort of the dreams, he felt sated and relaxed.

The questions remained at the forefront of his mind and though Quatre had told him it wasn’t anything he’d ever heard of before, curiosity got the best of him and he decided to spend the remainder of his morning pouring through internet search after internet search, typing in every keyword he could think of both vague and specific, for just a hint of an answer.

He found only a few obscure sites discussing the existence of Alphas and Omegas and he recalled Heero mentioning the same thing while looking for information that very first night. Initially, they merely seemed like conspiracy theory sites run by a bunch of wackos who believed in alien abductions and government coverups, but the more he delved into them, the more he discovered that many of the accounts matched up perfectly with everything they’d experienced so far.

“Uncontrollable arousal, only relieved by sexual contact with an Omega, telepathic connections, and mind control...oh my,” he mused as he sipped his tea. “Curiouser and curiouser.”

If this was what they were experiencing and Quatre was an Omega, then they’d somehow managed to create a bond with him that surpassed much of human understanding. Though the theories were colorful, imaginative, and rather entertaining to read, ranging from ‘Omegas are God’s angels’ to ‘Omegas are the spawn of the Devil’ to ‘Omegas are an advanced alien race here to better humanity’.

“Always comes back to aliens, doesn’t it?” He chuckled. In the old days before modern science, humans often chalked up the mysterious to invisible gods in the sky, or a little red man with horns and a forked tail. Of course many still did, but the more popular hypothesis nowadays was the influence, and sometimes the intervention of extraterrestrials.

“I highly doubt Quatre is part of some distant alien race,” he informed his computer. Heero, maybe. But definitely not Quatre. He wondered how accurate any of this information was. While the theories tended to be out there in the realm of the unbelievable, many of the symptoms appeared to be spot on. Then again, how likely was it that Quatre had some mysterious being inside him that could force a bond on people? Or was it even a being? Was it independently sentient, or simply an extension of its host? The fact that Omegas were theorized to be Newtypes was no coincidence.

But then how likely was it that Newtypes existed? Newtypes were real, he knew that much, but it seemed that Omegas were a subset of Newtypes, though why that was even necessary remained to be seen.

Sometimes evolution made sense only to itself. Mother Nature was notorious for guarding her secrets like a champion poker player holding his Royal Flush close to his chest.

He glanced up at the clock, shocked when he realized it was nearly dinnertime. Though at the moment, he was more tired than hungry. He closed his laptop and set it aside, scooting further down the couch to settle in for a catnap. He would eat a light supper later after he woke up.

His eyes drifted closed, a soft murmur of, “What is an Omega,” on his lips. He did not receive an answer, but...maybe he’d find one in his dreams.


	10. Obsession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huzzah! Got a fun-packed chapter for y'all lovely peeps. 6200+ words of Duo angst, pining, obsession, and perversion because it's Duo, that's why. ~.^
> 
> Honestly, my heart went out to him in this chapter. Poor, confused little babe. :'3
> 
> Hope you like and thanks for reading! ^.^

_Tuesday, December 16th, 8:02pm. L2 X9984, District Four..._

The garage was stuffy and reeked of sweat and motor oil, mixed with the faint lavender and spice scent of HIlde’s perfume. It was stronger now, clinging to her moist skin as she arched her back in ecstasy. Duo ogled the bounce of her small breasts and couldn’t resist the temptation to lean down and suck one of those tiny, tightened nipples into his mouth.  
  
His mission now was only to pleasure her. He’d been going at her for nearly an hour and was no closer to reaching orgasm than he was when he’d started. And he was getting tired.  
  
Since he’d initiated the whole thing, he didn’t want to leave her unsatisfied just because he wasn’t able to get off. It was frustrating to say the least. He was so pent up, in desperate need to come and hovering on the cusp of something much greater, but without the reward at the end.  
  
It was like waking up to the smell of cooking bacon and finding out that Howard hadn’t bothered to fry up a few extra strips for him. Asshole.  
  
Hilde moaned in a voice high and reedy. Red-painted fingernails dragged over the skin of his chest, catching on his nipples on their way down. He could feel the tremor in her thighs as she rose higher and higher towards her peak and used her vocalizations to guide his movements. “Yeah, right there. I’m so close.”  
  
He redoubled his efforts, thrusting in at the perfect angle to stroke her where it counted, doing his best to focus on her pleasure until her legs seized around him in that familiar vice-like grip which always indicated that the point of no return was imminent.  
  
For him, the voice was all wrong. The body type wasn’t right. The scent wasn’t the same. He wanted to close his eyes and imagine the lithe form of a beautiful blond beneath him who smelled like jasmine and fresh linen, but he couldn’t do that to Hilde no matter how much it killed him.  
  
He’d had sex a few dozen times since his youth, but nothing could ever measure up to the indescribable pleasure of fucking Quatre. It seemed to have flicked a switch on inside his head that he could not turn off, nor did he want to. He wanted to experience that again and again and again. He’d been hoping perhaps it was something that he would benefit from with whomever he slept with from now on, but of course he could never be that fortunate.  
  
Maybe if and when he ever had sex with Quatre again, it wouldn’t be like that first time, but goddamn if he wasn’t chomping at the bit to find out either way.

_Is it possible to die from an extreme case of blue balls? ‘Cause that would suck some serious donkey ass._

“Oh, Duo! Fuck, I’m coming!”

He drove in roughly, jolting Hilde across the red, threadbare fabric of the old Chevy Nova’s bench seat that he used as a makeshift couch. He kept up the rough pace as she arched her back, trembled, and shouted her way through her climax, only slowing to a stop once she lay limp and sated against the seat.

Their panting breaths mingled in the air between them, hers from satiety and his from exertion. He wiped sweat from his brow and gingerly pulled his hips back until his still-erect cock slid from her body. With an exhausted sigh, he maneuvered Hilde’s legs out of the way to make room to sit and then brought them back to rest in his lap.

He’d had some real bitch moments in his life, but this took the cake. Some of them had been so bad, he'd had no way of knowing if he would survive the night. He would never forget the agony of slowly succumbing to hypothermia and asphyxiation while lying on a steel floor that felt more like a slab of ice with only his anal-retentive co-pilot for company.

At least if he’d been with Quatre, they could have passed the time and made use of the rapidly evaporating oxygen with some pleasant conversation. Of course, Wufei had demanded he not speak at all in order to preserve what little air they’d had, though Duo suspected that was only part of the reason.

Though Wufei never said so out loud, he was sure his bellyaching had grated on the other boy’s nerves. If they'd died that day, Wufei probably would have died much happier without the incessant whining of his co-pilot.

He was a little ticked off, not only at Wufei, but also Heero since they’d stopped answering his calls. He understood it to some extent. He knew he could be a little abrasive at times and it probably didn’t help that they all seemed to be in the same boat.

A rapidly sinking boat with only a few measly teaspoons to bail out the water.

And this little 'problem' that they all seemed to be having had the same common denominator: A raging hard-on for a certain blond billionaire friend of theirs.

He could admit that during the war and even after, he’d had his fair share of fantasies about the Sandrock pilot. Quatre was a stunner and instead of growing out of his looks as people sometimes did, the prettiness of his youth had evolved into breathtaking beauty. A real head-turner kind of beauty. He was the kind of man that stopped traffic and drew stares everywhere he went.

Quatre’s inner beauty no doubt enhanced his outer beauty. His mannerisms, his grace, the way he carried himself, his humbleness, generosity, and intelligence. The gentle, soft-spoken lilt of his voice and the way it could sing a colicky baby to sleep, or effortlessly command entire armies. He bled competence, strength, and compassion through his very pores and it was no wonder why so many people were drawn to him like moths to a flame.

It was no wonder he was the most sought-after bachelor in the world, with men and women alike tripping over themselves for just a glance, a smile, a moment of his undivided attention.

Quatre was a prize, no doubt about it. Looks, smarts, wealth, and an infinite amount of charm at his disposal. The public was competitive over him like wolves fighting for a prime cut of meat, whether they were seeking donations, exclusive interviews, dates, or hounding him until he finally broke down and agreed to a special edition GQ photo spread.

Duo had come across the publication in a local market and did not hesitate to purchase a copy with a cheeky grin at the cashier and a proudly announced, “I know this guy. One of my best buds in the whole wide world.”

The cashier just rolled his eyes as if he’d heard the exact same story from every schmuck that passed through his checkout line, and muttered, “If you say so, pal.”  
  
Duo had been too distracted by the glossy cover to pay the tall, lanky teen much heed. With a touch of makeup to enhance the glow of his skin and the perfect lighting, it looked as though Adonis himself had descended from the clouds and perched his divine backside on the little red stool that stood before a stark white background. Duo had never been more jealous of an inanimate object in his entire life.  
  
Quatre’s cover photo featured him in a sexy slouch with his arms in front of him and his fingers wrapped around the edge of the stool’s seat. He was dressed in a royal blue suit perfectly tailored to fit his body, but without a shirt beneath the blazer which was open to display his slender, but toned torso.  
  
It was a contemporary and eclectic blend of the formal and the casual, carefree chic. In the photo, Quatre had no shoes on and his bare feet rested on the opposing rungs of the stool with his knees splayed on either side of his arms in a boldly sensual pose designed to illicit naughty thoughts and simultaneously make you feel guilty for thinking them.  
  
It was what Duo often referred to as a ‘knuckle-biter’.  
  
The luxurious waves of his golden hair had been styled back, away from his forehead which gave his still quite youthful face a more mature appearance, though the youth was preserved with a few strategically arranged tendrils that tumbled down over his brow and temple. It gave him a tousled, disheveled look and the effect was ageless and seraphic.  
  
Duo would bet his life savings that the vast majority of the human population had set aside a little ‘private time’ for that masterpiece the very same night of its release.  
  
_And probably still do. Lord knows, I’m one of them._  
  
He felt like a total creep, but he kept that copy beneath his mattress as a guilty pleasure and prayed to any god within earshot that in the event of his death, a peculiar case of faulty wiring would eliminate any chance of embarrassment he might experience in the afterlife. Nothing spectacular, just a little electrical fire to snuff out the evidence of his indiscretion.

The photo spread inside the magazine was a whole other level of wank fodder. One featured a soft and demure Quatre laying on his back, staring up from the printed pages with those endless sky blue eyes and a pout that would make any dom weep with need.

But Duo’s personal favorite was the shot of him standing with his back to the camera in the middle of an abandoned metropolis street. Quatre gazed over a shoulder bared above the neckline of a baggy silver sweater that had slipped down his arm and beneath the short-waisted hem, the work of art that was his ass was on full display in a pair of black leather pants which clung to him like a second skin.

His hair was curled and the springy, flaxen locks tumbled over his forehead and ears, giving him an air of playful youth and innocence. The thumb of his left hand was hooked into the back pocket of his trousers and in his right, he teasingly held a red lollipop up to his cherry-stained lips.

He looked like he was begging to be wrecked and, fucking Christ on a cracker did Duo want to be the one to do the honors.

“Hey...you alright?”

He turned his head when gentle fingers tucked a loose lock of hair behind his ear and smiled. “Yeah. Sorry, I was wandering.”

Hilde’s eyes dropped to his lap where his cock was still rock hard against his belly. “You didn’t come?”

He shook his head and playfully chucked her chin. “Nah, but it’s cool.”

She didn’t look convinced. “I could help with you with that.”

As wonderful as that sounded, he knew it would do no good. Instead, he reached over towards the stack of crates which substituted as an end table for the pack of Winstons that sat on top. “It’s fine. It’ll go down.”

“You sure? I don’t mind.”

“No worries, babe.” With a flick of his wrist he flipped the Zippo open, lit a smoke, and handed it to her before lighting one up for himself. His dick was still ready for action despite feeling raw and chafed, but he preferred to wait until after Hilde left to take care of it. Tonight, he had another date with that magazine.

He only hoped one of these days it would go down and stay that way for at least a couple hours because he was mildly worried that he might actually start killing brain cells if his blood continued to fly south for the winter.

Hilde shifted and lifted her cigarette to her lips, tipping her head back to blow the smoke away from his face. He could see the concern in her eyes as she bit down on a painted thumbnail, a sure sign that she was fretting.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“What? No, babe! No, you were great. You always are.”

“But you didn’t come. That’s never been a problem until the last two times.”

He dropped his head back onto the seat and watched curls of smoke drift up towards the vent that lead to the ceiling fan. It was quiet, but the hum was there and for Duo, it was comforting white noise. He’d gotten so used to having it on while he worked, he couldn’t focus without it.

“Not trying to be cliche here, Hil, but it’s not you. It’s me.” She didn’t look like she bought that, but since he had no idea why this was happening, he just didn’t know what else to say.

He rested his hand on her leg and looked deep into her eyes, hoping she could see how genuine he was being. “Look at me, Hil. Have I ever lied to you?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Well, I’m not lying to you now either. I’m not sure what’s happening, but if I had to guess, I’d say it’s just stress. I’m under a lot of pressure to meet the Sweepers’ deadlines and if I don’t, we could lose some very big accounts.”

Which was true, though he doubted that was the reason his dick was still standing at attention after beating off three times today and then having sex with Hilde.

“Plus, I’ve been staying up pretty late to get some of this work done so I’m not getting as much sleep as I probably should.”

“Duo, for god’s sake! Don’t do this to yourself. I mean, sure, the accounts are important, but your health trumps all of that. If you don’t take some time off to rest and recuperate, you’re going to work yourself into exhaustion and then what good will you be for the Sweepers?”

He grinned and gave her a cheeky wink. “And here I thought Quat was the mother hen.”

“I’m serious, Duo.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I know, babe. And I will, okay? I won’t let it go that far.”

“Promise?”

He traced two intersecting lines over his chest and said, “Cross my heart.”

“Good. I’m going to hold you to that and if you don’t give yourself time to rest and sleep, I’m going to smack you upside your thick head.”

“Duly noted.”

She swung her legs over the side of the car seat and reached for her jeans. “I’ve got to get to work anyway. I’ve got a shift in thirty minutes.”

“Still pullin’ the graveyard shift, eh?”

“Yeah, well. Marci is still out from her back surgery and probably will be for at least another week,” she told him as she bent down to slip her shoes on. “Someone’s got to fill in for her and I can’t complain since I’m getting overtime.”

“Always a plus.”

“When I get my next paycheck, I’m going to take you out to eat.”

“Hil, you don’t have to spend your money on me. I’ve got my own.”

“I want to, you knucklehead,” she quipped, giving him a light tap on the back of his head. “What good is earning all this capital if I don’t get to spend a little of it on my friends?”

“Well, alright. Since you put it that way. On one condition, though. You let me return the favor one of these days.”

“Deal. Just think about where you want to go and we’ll go next Friday.”

“There’s that little Italian place on Fifth. It’s a bit of a dive, but the food is killer. Very authentic.”

“Rosalita’s? Yeah, I know that place.” She stood up and grabbed her bra off the floor, sliding her arms through the straps and hooking the clasps in the back. “It’s up to you.”

“Okay, we’ll go there.” He finished his smoke and snuffed it out into the little aluminum ashtray on the table. “Sound like fun. They got that self-playing piano thing, too.”

“You’re such a kid,” she chuckled as she slipped her shirt on and bend down to kiss his forehead. “Take the night off, okay? Do it for me?”

“Hil -”

“Please?”

God, how could he say no when she gave him that puppy dog look? “Alright, fine. I’ll take the night off and try to get some sleep, but I’m working tomorrow. I have to, Hil.”

“Fair enough.” She pulled her jacket on and grabbed her purse. “We still on for Sunday?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he promised. He was looking forward to it. Just the two of them, a six pack of cheap beer, and Sunday night football. It didn’t get any better than that. “It’s a date.”

She gave him an odd look. “We’re not dating, Duo.”

He shrugged. “Figure of speech.”

“Alright, I gotta go,” she told him, leaning down to kiss his cheek this time. “I’ll call you tomorrow. I’d better hear that you slept.”

“Yes, mother.”

She gave him one final, stern look and then left the garage. He leaned back against the seat and listened to the fading click of her fashion boots and the closing of the door, followed by the roar of her Camaro’s engine. She had one of the most bad ass cars on L2, in his humble opinion. It was a classic, restored by his own hands and presented as a gift so maybe he was biased, but it really was a sweet ride.

He reached for another smoke and lit up as he lounged on the car seat in his birthday suit. He was in no hurry to get up, or get dressed. To do so would require energy he just didn’t have at the moment. For him, that was unusual. He always seemed to draw from a seemingly endless well of energy during the day and surprisingly, he’d always slept like a baby at night.

Three days ago, his habitual nature had taken a complete one-eighty and in the aftermath, he found his life turned on its head. He couldn’t remember a time he’d ever been so tired, but so high-strung at the same time. The restlessness was like a constant vibration buzzing like hundreds of angry bees beneath his skin and it seemed to be intimately connected to his perpetually aroused state.

And it was only getting worse with each passing day.

He glanced down at his dick and gave it a flick with his thumb and forefinger. “What’re you starin’ at, pal? You had your chance to get off and you chose not to. It certainly wasn’t for lack of effort on my part so don’t even look at me like that.”

In truth, the only way he could seem to get off was by looking at the magazine he kept under his mattress. At least that was the only time it seemed to work, though the relief was infuriatingly temporary.

He seriously hoped Trowa wouldn’t decide to travel to L4 without him. He was a little jealous of his closeness to Quatre even though he knew he had no right to be. Of course he would never attempt to force his way between them, but he would be lying if he said he wouldn’t be furious with Trowa if the other man jetted off to see the blond without telling him.

There was a disturbing amount of possessiveness and sense of ownership that he’d never felt towards anyone before and it scared him because he was reasonably sure it wasn’t healthy. It wouldn’t have been healthy even if they’d been in a relationship and the fact that they weren’t made it even weirder.

Only his utmost respect for Quatre kept him from calling the blond up and pestering him with desperate pleas to see him. It was only that respect that kept him from jumping on the next shuttle destined for L4, storming his way into Quatre’s office building, and fucking him on top of the conference table in full view of his gobsmacked colleagues.

That would be bad no matter how many times his vivid imagination tried to convince him otherwise.

And to his ever-growing concern, that restraint which was built out of respect was being pulled so tightly that it was threatening to snap like a rubber band and it was taking his sanity with it.

He looked down at his cock again and it twitched as if it sensed his attention. “I’ve always been good to you, haven’t I? I always got you off when you wanted it. I never pulled you too hard. Never accidentally zipped you up in my jeans, or got you caught in a doorjamb, or anything. What’s your deal?”

It twitched again and he huffed irritably. “I know exactly what you want, but you’re not getting it tonight, tomorrow night, or possibly any night after that so you might as well suck it up because we can’t always get what we want.”

_Twitch._

“Goddamn it,” he muttered and stubbed out his cigarette with an angry twist of his wrist. Grumbling to himself, he grabbed his clothes and draped them over his arm as he made his way to the door that connected the garage to his house, flipping the lights off as he left.

“I’ll indulge you one last time, but if you don’t cooperate, I’m hereby absolving myself of responsibility, understood?”

In his bedroom, he dropped his clothing onto the chair next to his bed and stuck his hand beneath his mattress, feeling for the thin binder of the magazine. “Where are you? Where - ah, gotcha!” He slid it out and held it up, staring at the blond on the cover whose sinfully seductive wiles had embedded themselves into his skin like a billion and one fishing hooks. “How ya doin’ on this fine evening, Q? I hope you’re doing well. Sorry again for all this and I hope you can forgive me for what I’m about to do.”

Absurd maybe, but he felt the need to apologize every time he did this if only to appease his own conscience. He was developing an obsession, a disturbing vice towards his friend who for all he knew, didn’t want to have anything to do with any of them. And if this kept getting worse, he was going to have to consider making an appointment with a therapist to help him work through it before it became a serious problem.

His cock throbbed for his touch as his brain made the connection that he was finally looking at the object of his desire. He wrapped his hand around it and gave it a reprimanding squeeze. “Alright, you greedy fucker. Let’s get this show on the road.”

He opened the magazine and sifted through the pages of photos, articles, and advertisements until he found the cover story spread at the center. This time, he opted for the most provocative photo of Quatre in a white thwab. The traditional Arab garment while usually a conservative article of clothing, had a long slit right down the middle and the embroidered hem at the neckline had slipped down, exposing a creamy shoulder.

Quatre was sitting on the floor of what looked like a middle eastern palace with his legs curled beneath him. He was leaning forward with his hands flat on an ornate, Moroccan rug and the bottom of his thwab was hitched up to reveal most of his right leg and a hint of hip.

On his head was the customary keffiyeh of his culture, though some locks of blond hair were visible and framed his beautiful face which was illuminated by the sunlight that streamed in from the windows to his right.

The pose and the arrangement of his clothing was deliciously submissive, undoubtedly sexual and not surprisingly, highly coveted in the gay community. Duo remembered the controversy it stirred and the negative publicity that Quatre had had to deal with once the magazine was distributed, but he didn’t disappoint in his responses to the criticism. He was blatantly unapologetic and steadfast in his support of the photo and the photographer, citing that gay Arab men existed and they were not second class citizens.

Duo remembered how proud he’d been of his friend during that interview, especially when the interviewer had asked him if that was a personal confession. Without hesitating, or even batting an eye, Quatre answered the question with a blunt honesty that had the media in near-hysterics for months and prompted a firestorm of inquiries and speculation about the blond’s love life.

He'd followed the headlines closely and read many a comment on news and gossip websites. He was often appalled and disgusted by the graphic and invasive way that Quatre’s sexuality was discussed which for Duo, only served to strengthen his admiration for his friend. One had to be tough as nails to deal with the kind of bullshit that Quatre did every day.

Not that he was much better, he mused as he lay down on the bed and placed the opened magazine on his pillow. He reached for the other pillow and folded it in half before wedging it beneath his groin. His dick was no longer able to settle for his hand and now he knew the only way of getting a little relief was to pretend he was actually performing the act of fucking.

He shifted his hips a little to get as comfortable as possible and then lowered himself down onto his elbows. He kept his eyes glued to the photo, not wanting any real world distractions to ruin the fantasy, and then let his mind take it from there.

The photo began to transform from a flat, glossy piece of paper into real flesh and blood and within seconds, the real Quatre was right there with him, beneath him and begging to be taken with desperate pleas and soft sighs. A moan vibrated Duo’s throat as his hips started to rock, pushing his cock into the accommodating groove of the memory foam. In his mind, it was the maddening tightness and heat of the blond’s body which yielded to his invasion and caressed him with a lover’s touch.

“You feel so good, baby,” he murmured, lowering his forehead until it rested on the bottom edge of the magazine. “I’m gonna make you feel good, too.” He pumped his hips faster and groaned with helpless abandon, a prisoner of his own pleasure. It was a prison he couldn't escape and didn't want to even if he was given the keys and the warden’s blessing.

Memories of that first night resurfaced, hazy, but so insanely erotic that at the time, he was almost afraid he was going to explode. He remembered that scent, sweet like candy but tinged with something wild and untamed and the effect on his mind was like a dose of narcotics. Like the second hand buzz after inhaling Howard’s ganja smoke, only a million times more intense.

From there, he’d had little control over his actions, operating on an instinct that seemed intimately connected to his libido. He’d been dimly aware that the rest of them were in similar states of primal need and it only became stronger when Quatre was yanked off the couch and lay sprawled on the floor with his t-shirt hitched up over his exposed ass.

An ass that had been wet with something he’d neither heard of, seen, smelled, or tasted before. He’d barely paid any mind to the fact that such a thing wasn’t possible, much less normal. All he cared about was getting a taste of it.

He recalled watching Trowa dive in first and a surge of dark envy uncurled in his belly, forcing him to grab a handful of auburn hair and pull that head away just far enough for him to move in and sample the goods.

It was like an elixir, like drinking from the fountain of youth, or some liquid form of ecstasy. He felt refreshed, invigorated, outrageously horny, and like he was floating among the clouds all at the same time. He’d licked into blond with an aggressive desperation as if he’d been walking through the desert for days and had happened upon a cool spring.

Quatre’s soft whimpers were like the sweetest music to his ears and he’d quite literally snarled when someone grabbed his braid and roughly pulled his head away from his prize. Heero had quickly taken his place and Duo used the reprieve to gaze upon their prey.

Quatre had already seemed to give up any semblance of resistance, though Duo sensed no fear, or reticence from him. Quite the contrary, actually if the way he’d spread his legs out and tilted his hips up to get more of the action was anything to go by. By then, he was mewling into the carpet and panting breathless encouragement as he lost himself to the pleasure.

They’d gone at him like starving wolves for what Duo figured must have been at least half an hour and still Quatre kept producing the strange fluid as if he’d had a never ending supply of it hidden somewhere inside his body. Once they’d consumed their fill, other needs took precedence and they’d all watched with ravenous eyes as Trowa forced his hips between the blond’s open thighs and pushed his cock into the glistening opening.

The only other time Duo had seen Trowa act so aggressively was during battle. At every other time, he was as placid and laid back as they came. But on that night, he’d been a literal fucking machine, driving himself into Quatre’s body with his lips curled back from his teeth and his fingers like iron hooks around the blond’s wrists.

Duo was sure there was no porn in the world that could beat that. If there was, he had yet to find it. And it certainly didn’t look as though Quatre was in any condition to complain. His eyes had rolled beneath fluttering lashes and his open mouth bleated the prettiest sounds as he deliriously succumbed to the show of dominance.

By the time Trowa climaxed, Duo was practically climbing the walls and he’d roughly shoved the other man off in his desperation to plunder that deliciously quivering body. He seemed to lose all sense of reality once he was inside the blond’s velvety hot sheath, driven by a primitive carnality so powerful, it threatened to smother his sanity until there was nothing left of him that was recognizable.

He remembered pinning Quatre’s wrists to the floor and snarling into the back of his head like a feral animal. He’d growled possessive declarations and abject filth into the blond's ear and each word was reciprocated with a whimper of affirmation.

By the time Heero and Wufei had had a turn, he was finally beginning to come down from the high and once he saw the ravished state of his friend, reality dropped down onto him like a lead weight and it shook him to his core.

He’d never lost control of himself like that before. None of them had, not even the chronically impulsive Heero who often acted before he thought things through. At the time, there’d really been no room to think, no room for logic as though the reasonable part of their brains had taken a temporary vacation and only decided to return home once everything was all said and done.

Quatre was out cold by then, simply too exhausted to stay awake and Duo couldn’t decide if that made it better, or worse.

And he knew, as surely as he knew that the sun would rise in the morning, that if he ever came face to face with Quatre again, the exact same thing would happen. There was no denying it, no deluding himself into thinking he’d have any more control than he did three nights ago.

Distantly, he could hear the sound of an incoming phone call, but not even the God of Death himself had the power to stop him now. He shoved his cock into the pillow and humped it frantically, his senses flying high from the exquisite friction. The fantasy played out inside his mind and manifested as the physical sensation of flesh that was silky soft and coated with sweat, and a body that was warm, slender, and smelled of jasmine coupled with the sweetness of that strange fluid.

“Fuck...baby, you’re gonna make me come. You feel so fucking good,” he groaned, curling his fingers around imaginary wrists and pushing himself deep into the phantom warmth of the blond’s body. “Never gonna let anyone else have you. Never gonna - oh, god...never gonna let anyone else touch you. You belong to me and I - oh! Oh, shit! I’m comin’. I’m -”

His back bowed sharply and his eyes automatically squeezed shut as his cock spurted white, hot ecstasy into the pillow. He shouted his pleasure into the muggy air of his bedroom and kept up the rocking motion of his hips until the shocks of oversensitivity forced him to stop. For a while, he lay panting and shuddering in a sweaty heap, listening to the ringing in his ears and the _thump, thump, thump_ of his rapidly beating heart.

Once the tinnitus began to fade, he noticed that his phone had stopped ringing and as awareness slowly came back, he became increasingly curious about who’d called him.

Possibly Howard, or Hilde, though he suspected it was Trowa since he’d promised to call him back after his performance. He was anxious to talk to the other man as contact with his fellow pilots helped to calm him and it was good to know he wasn’t alone in this situation. If he was indeed taking the crazy train to Insanityville, at least he’d have his friends by his side.

_Ain't that what best buds are for? Ride, or die, my friends. Ride, or die._

He pushed himself up and used his knee to kick the come-stained pillow onto the floor. He would wash the case in the morning, but for now he was far more interested in talking to Trowa. He climbed off the bed and glanced down as he felt the heavy swing of his cock which, to his dismay, had not gone soft. Not even a little.

“Oh, fuck you, you ingrate,” he hissed at it and grabbed his jeans off the chair. He slid them over his legs and pulled them up, but he struggled a little to get his erection stuffed inside well enough that he wouldn’t have any unfortunate zipper incidents. “I just got you off and you’re still nagging me? What the hell do you want from me?”

He hated to say it, but he was starting to develop a love/hate relationship with his dick and the scales were beginning to tip farther and farther in favor of hate.

He went over to his computer and swiped across the mousepad to wake it up. In the bottom right corner of the screen, there was a notification for a missed call and one unseen message. He tapped the icon and waited for the window to pop up, expecting to see Trowa’s name and he almost swallowed his tongue when he saw Quatre’s instead.

Heart pounding like a base drum, he tapped the message icon and held his breath as the window for the video message loaded.

_Please don’t be calling me to tell me you hate me. Please don’t be calling me to tell me you hate me. Please don’t - oh, fuck!_

Quatre’s face appeared on the screen and Duo was struck dumb by how beautiful he looked. It took him a moment to comprehend the message and he had to rewind it and start over again so that he caught every word.

“Hey, Duo. Sorry to bother you -”

_Always apologizing. Babe, you couldn’t bother me even if you tried. Goddamn, you look good enough to eat. Can I spread you out and feast on you before I fuck you stupid?_

“ - But I just wanted to see how you’re doing and make sure you’re alright. Can you call me back as soon as you can? I know what’s happening and I have a way I can help you with your um...with your problem.”

He balked and then looked down at his tented jeans. _How in the hell does he know about that?_

_Wait...did he just say he knew what was happening?_

“Also, I want to get you all together on Sunday because I have something to tell you. I’ve already talked to Trowa, Heero, and Wufei and they’ve agreed to come to L4. I hope you can make it. Please call me back, okay? I’ll see you soon.”

The screen went dark and he dropped into the chair, too stunned to do anything but stare blankly at the wall.

This was...an interesting development. But if Quatre knew what was happening, then he probably knew how to make this go away. He couldn’t for the life of him figure out what it could possibly be, but he was dying of curiosity. 

_Sunday. He wants me to come out there on Sunday and what if we - oh, shit! I’m supposed to hang out with Hilde on Sunday._

He dropped his head down onto his arms with a groan. He didn’t want to ditch his Sunday get-together with her, but he already knew damned well he would. There was no question about it. He loved Hilde to death, but his need to see Quatre was far more pressing. He needed answers and he just plain needed Quatre.

Without giving himself time for second guessing, he opened his contacts and scrolled down until he reached Quatre's home number. He clicked on it and watched the call window open up, drumming his fingers against his desk as he waited nervously for the blond to pick up.

After three rings, Quatre was there, looking at him and speaking to him in real time and he struggled to get his sluggish tongue to work.

_Play it cool, bro. Just play it cool._

“Hey, Q. I, uh...I just saw that you called. What’s up?”


	11. Lost In the Moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A tiny, but noticeable knot of jealousy unraveled deep inside his gut, but he was unsure if the emotion was coming from the Omega, or himself. “Yes, I suppose it is,” he answered, not realizing how frosty he sounded until it was too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyyyyy lmao. How's everyone doing? I'm just gonna cut to the chase and say sorry that I took this long to update. I can promise you that this story is not abandoned, nor do I have any future plans to abandon it. It might take me a while in between updates sometimes, but hopefully that won't happen too often. For what it's worth, real life has been an insufferable bitch lately so that's why I've been slow on updating.
> 
> The good news is, some of my motivation and inspiration has returned and I'm going to do my best to make sure it isn't going anywhere anytime soon. I'm hoping to begin the next chapters on several WIP's and I have some ideas for a few oneshots, too.
> 
> So now I will shut up and let you get on with the story. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Head's up for this chapter: Mentions of rough sex, group sex (aka: "gangbang"), rimming, cliched Alpha/Omega tropes, possessiveness, dirty talk, and I think that's about it.

Duo’s eyes glowed an eerie bluish-white as he stared at Quatre from the murky darkness of his bedroom, wide and blinking owlishly. He looked amusingly like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Quatre could see the flushed skin of his face, the faint sheen of sweat on his forehead and across his cheekbones and chest. His hair was disheveled and he panted slightly as though trying to catch his breath.

Quatre experienced an uncanny moment of deja vu. His mind jumped back nine years in time to that traumatizing day when he’d accidentally walked in on his father while he was balls-deep inside his secretary with his Versace trousers pooled around his ankles.

Quatre had immediately retreated from the room without being noticed, but not before the image was burned onto the backs of his twelve year old eyelids like the branded ass of a dairy cow. He winced, shoving the disturbing memory out of his head, and cleared his throat. “Sorry, did I call at a bad time?”

Duo gave him a hesitant, lopsided grin. “I - naw. I was just...y’know...hittin’ the bag,” he said, making a rolling gesture with his fists. “Gotta keep in shape, right?”

Quatre sensed the lie, but nodded anyway, not wanting to make this exchange any more awkward than it already was. “Of course,” he assured him, shifting irritably when a trickle of moisture leaked into the seat of his pajama bottoms.

Duo was in such a slovenly state, with his flannel sleep pants slung so low on his hips that Quatre could just barely see where the narrow line of dark hair below his naval flared out at the top of his groin. It was sparking that now-familiar tingle in Quatre’s nether regions as the Omega caught wind of one of its Alphas.

_Am I really going to have to deal with this every time I come face to face with one of them? This fucking parasite has turned me into a whore. I might as well slap a red light on my front door and charge by the hour._

“Everything alright, Q?”

“Yeah,” he said a little too quickly, waving him off. “It’s nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing.”

He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head in defeat. Oh, how he hated repeating himself. “No, it’s not nothing. I’m sorry to say, it is something.”

His only comfort at the moment was knowing that out of the four of them, Duo was the one most likely to take the news without throwing a fit, brooding like a storm cloud, or pulling some six month disappearing act. Duo rolled with life’s punches like no one else he'd ever met and he was never more grateful for that than he was now.

Duo’s face was grim as he pulled his chair out and sat down. “This is about the other night, huh? I’m sorry about that, buddy. I don’t know what came over us.”

“I do.”

Duo's head jerked up in surprise and Quatre felt lower than a dog when he saw the relief in his friend’s eyes, the expectation of something he couldn't provide. “You do?

“Yes.”

“Well, shit. That’s good news, ain’t it?” Discouraged, Duo slumped a little when Quatre’s solemn mood didn’t change. “Tell me, Q. What’s going on?”

“It would take too long to tell you everything tonight. I’ve already talked to the other guys and they’ve agreed to come out here on Sunday so that I can tell you all at once.” When Duo opened his mouth to protest, Quatre raised his hand to stop him. “It’s fine. Yes, what happened then will happen again and that’s fine.”

Duo propped his chin on his fist. “Now you’ve really piqued my interest. You sure you want to subject yourself to that again?”

“I’d hardly call that subjugation,” Quatre told him wryly. “Maybe it escaped your notice, but I wasn’t exactly putting up a fight.”

Duo chewed his lip in contemplative silence and Quatre guessed that he was recalling the events that took place a few nights ago. “That was some voodoo shit, Quat. Are you a shaman, or something? Sacrificing chickens in your bathtub while wearing necklaces made out of bones and teeth?”

Quatre smiled. “No, not voodoo. Not witchcraft, or magic, or anything like that.”

Duo narrowed his eyes. “Is this from some kind of freaky OZ experiment when you and Heero were stuck in their evil lair for a month?” He glanced away, his brows knitting together in deep concentration, though it was far more likely he was thinking about something completely unrelated.

“That might explain Heero’s weird obsession with country music.”

Quatre’s glum mood dissolved into a fit of hysteria and he threw his head back, letting out a loud bark of laughter. He wasn’t sure why that struck him so funny, but he laughed until his sides ached and he was gasping for breath.

It took several minutes before he could get his mirth under control enough to speak again. He wiped the tears from his eyes and shook his head fondly at his friend while the occasional giggle still bubbled up like helium from a balloon. “Oh my god, Duo. I think I’m getting slap happy, but I haven’t laughed like that in a long time. Thanks.”

“Any time, little buddy,” Duo said, cringing slightly after the words left his mouth.

Quatre belatedly realized he’d just done the same. The Gilligan-esque pet name felt strange and out of place now. Foreign even. For both of them, it never really registered as anything unusual since Duo had pretty much been calling him that from the first day they met.

“Uh...sorry, Q. I’m not sure why that got weird just now."

He cleared his throat and dismissed it with a wave. “Don’t worry about it. So...are you coming?”

Duo reared back in shock. “Wha - Quat, no! Why would you think I was doing that?”

He paused, confused for a moment before his brain finally caught up. “Duo - god! That's not - I _meant_ , are you coming over on Sunday?”

Duo froze as he realized his mistake and tried to hide his embarrassment with a flippant hand gesture and an 'I meant to do that' look. “Oh, yeah. ‘Course. Pfffft, I knew that.”

 _Yeah, I’m not buying that for a second,_ Quatre thought. While he was not above the occasional ribbing, he declined to call out Duo’s faux pas for the time being.

“Right, well...like I said, I’m going to explain everything on Sunday after we - you know…” Now it was his turn to become flustered and he cursed the Omega, himself, Duo, Iria, his father, and every bloody deity he could think of. This really wasn't going well.

_What the fuck is wrong with me? What is happening to me? I’m becoming a whore! A sex addict! A freak of nature! This was not part of my life plan, damn it! What am I supposed to do with this? Why can't I just be normal?_

“I have to admit, Quat, that you’ve got me a little worried here.”

“I don’t blame you.”

“Is it...is it life-threatening, or anything?”

Quatre knew he looked visibly uncomfortable and kicked himself for not being able to appease Duo’s fears. “No, not really -”

“Not _really?_ What does that mean?”

“Look, you’re not going to die any time soon, okay? But there is this issue that if I do, you might not live much longer after my death, but I promise you that I’m going to be working closely with Iria to find a solution so that won’t happen because you shouldn’t have to die if I do. That’s just not right and I want to find a way to prevent that so I’m -”

“Whoa! Okay, Q. Slow down, buddy. You’re losin’ me.”

“Sorry.”

“S’okay. Just give me a sec to process this.” He lifted a hand to rub at his eyes and Quatre wondered how long it had been since he'd had a good night’s sleep. “So...I’m right to assume some kind of bizarro heebie jeebie shit is goin’ on, yeah?”

“You could say that.”

“What, did we summon some ancient demon fugitive from the pits of Hell who decided to lay low in your ass?”

A sound escaped Quatre’s mouth, high-pitched like an unexpected laugh which surprised both Duo and himself. That wasn’t exactly a pleasant thought, but it still seemed strangely accurate all things considered. “It’s...well, it’s not demonic. At least I don’t think so. It’s technically not even supernatural as far as I can tell.”

“Then what is it?”

“From what I know so far, it seems to be evolutionary.”

Duo’s brow quirked. “Meaning?”

He huffed and rubbed his forehead tiredly. His brain felt like it had suffered an unfortunate encounter with a cheese grater. “Meaning, it’s...something to do with Newtypes.”

“Ah.” Duo leaned back into his chair and drummed his fingers on the faux-leather padded arm. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Anyway,” Quatre continued, pushing forward despite his discomfort. “The bottom line is, you’re all intimately connected to me in basically every single way a person can be connected to another and then some. What that means is, you’re going to...need me. And I’ll need all of you, too.”

Duo tipped his head to the side like a confused Cocker Spaniel. “Need...how?”

Quatre gave him a dark look. “I think you damn well know how.”

“So that's why I spent an hour banging Hilde into that cheesy 1970's velvet upholstery and still couldn’t get my nut on, isn’t it?”

He recoiled at the vulgar admission and his stomach twisted queasily. His suspicion that at least some aspects of this connection were not a two-way street had apparently just been confirmed. After Iria informed him about the other four knowing if he so much as flirted with someone else, he assumed he would know if they did the same.

Obviously he was wrong since Duo had spent the better part of his evening having sex while Quatre was completely unaware of any of it. Not that he had any intention of sleeping with anyone else, but it wasn’t fair that they could track him in such a deeply personal way when he was unable to return the favor.

A tiny, but noticeable knot of jealousy unraveled deep inside his gut, but he was unsure if the emotion was coming from the Omega, or himself. “Yes, I suppose it is,” he answered, not realizing how frosty he sounded until it was too late.

Predictably, Duo’s hands flew up in defense. “Whoa, roll the claws back in, Quat. I was desperate, okay? I’ve been jacking myself raw and I thought that maybe -”

“No, Duo. Don’t - you don’t owe me an explanation, or an apology. I’m sorry for acting like that. I don’t know what came over me.”

“Hey, don’t feel bad. If anything, I feel like a massive hypocrite.” Duo shook his head and fidgeted with the tip of his braid, running his finger back and forth over the fringe that was held together by a rubber band. “That night...after the first time we did it, I said I would kill anyone who lays a hand on you.” He glanced up and stared at Quatre with a mix of sincerity and shame in the glittering pools of his eyes. “I meant that, Quat. I can’t take it back no matter how much I want to. Actually, I don't even want to now that I think about it. There's so much violence in my head when I think about…” he trailed off, blowing out a forceful breath and Quatre didn't miss the barely imperceptible clench of his fist.

“You’re not the first one to tell me that tonight, Duo, so don’t worry.”

He glanced up sharply and the startling shift of color and intensity in his eyes sucked the oxygen from Quatre’s lungs. It made him think of the chaotic force of a self-cannibalizing star the instant before it became a supernova. The powerful and sublime flash of a celestial body while in the throes of death, brilliant and blinding before releasing that chaos across millions of light years, destroying and creating life in its wake.

It was uncannily similar to the spark in Heero and Wufei’s eyes, presumably Trowa’s as well and he wondered for the third time that night just how much power these men carried inside them now. As before, in the face of such raw emotion - the frenetic dominance trapped inside a man who had not yet learned how to control it - Quatre’s body and mind were forcibly pushed into a state that could only be described as ‘stupidly horny’.

“I need you, Quat. I need you like I’ve never needed anything, or anyone before. I can’t sleep. I keep forgetting to eat and you know that’s not me. When I was fucking HIlde, all I could think about was fucking you. The only way I can get off is by humping my fucking pillows while pretending I'm dicking you into the bed and the relief only lasts a few minutes before I’m hard as a rock again.”

Duo’s voice sounded dry and wretched, like a man crawling through the desert, half-dead from thirst and Quatre’s heart panged with sympathy. “I’m so sorry for doing this, to all of you. There's...something I can do for you right now, but I can’t guarantee how long the effects will last.”

Duo visibly brightened at the possibility of respite. He leaned forward, peering at Quatre's flushing face and swiped a wet tongue across his upper lip. “How are you gonna do that?”

Instead of answering, Quatre stood up and started to disrobe. He heard Duo’s hissed expletives through the tiny speakers on either side of his computer as every inch of his porcelain flesh was revealed. Thankfully Duo was sharp as a tack when it came to sex which spared Quatre the embarrassment of having to explain his intentions.

And Duo wasn't wasting any time busting out the dirty talk. “Oh, fuck yeah. Take it all off, baby. Are you wet for me?”

Direct, blunt, and aggressive, such was Duo's way. The kind of man who was fearless enough to make decisions in a snap and never look back. Something that was always potentially dangerous, but when it came to sex, it was an aphrodisiac of the highest caliber. Duo knew exactly what he wanted and he was not afraid to take it.

It was deliciously primal, like being snatched by a caveman and ravished on top of the nearest boulder and Quatre couldn't deny how much of a fucking turn-on it was.

His legs wobbled at the gravelly tone and he dropped back into the chair, furiously kicking his feet to free them from his pajama pants. His butt slipped a little on the leather seat from the increased production of Eroycinnia and emitted a loud squeak, causing his face to flame with heat. “Sorry, I didn’t - I mean, that wasn’t what you think it was.”

Fortunately, Duo didn’t seem to care. His eyes glowed a muted blue that Quatre was fairly sure was not coming from the light of the computer screen, but rather from a fire that was being stoked inside him. His own body responded, flaring like a furnace turned up too high. Mindless instinct took the reigns, driven by primitive need alone. He hooked his bare legs over the arms of his chair and spread himself open to his lover’s ravenous gaze, his ardor spurred on by his shameless display of submission.

_Take thee, my good sir. And please, I beg of you...thou must not be gentle with thee._

His inner thighs and the exposed part of his ass gleamed with the Eroycinnia that was smeared as he got himself situated. He traced fingers trembling with desire gently over the sensitive flesh of his inner thigh, coating his fingertips with the slick warmed by his body. The tangy and slightly sweet scent of it curled beneath his nose for the fourth time that night and despite his exhaustion from the previous three rounds, the Omega inside him, selfish and myopic, was ready for more.

“I’m so wet, Duo,” he whispered, his eyelids drooping slightly as his index and middle finger circled his opening. The Omega keened with need, fueled by the touch which promised a delightful taste of paradise. Goosebumps rippled across his skin, the tiny blond hairs on his arms standing on end as if an electric current was thrumming through his veins. He applied only the gentlest pressure and his Eroyica gland responded with another flood of slick. “I’m so wet for you.”

“Damn right, you are,” Duo hissed, wrapping his hand around the thick column of flesh jutting up between his thighs. He tugged up, far enough for the foreskin to completely cover the head and then dragged it back down until his pinky finger rested against his drawn-up balls. He was already close, so pent up that he looked ready to pop like a champagne bottle that had been shaken vigorously. “You look so fucking hot, baby. God, I want to stick my head through the screen and lick you clean. I wanna suck that stuff right outta you until you can’t take it anymore…and then keep going until you come all over yourself again and again.”

“And when you’re shaking and spent, I wanna throw your legs up and fuck you so hard that your screams can be heard from the next colony. Until you can still feel me inside you a week later, every time you move. I wanna fuck you so deeply that my scent will be stuck to your skin no matter how many times you try to wash it off.”

Immersed in Duo’s fantasy, Quatre’s eyes involuntarily drifted closed, but he forced them back open, not wanting to miss a moment of the erotic sight before him. Duo was splayed back in his chair with his thighs a few inches apart, tensing every so often whenever he twisted his wrist the right way. His supple chest glistened with sweat, rising and falling in rapid succession and the muscles of his abdomen were clearly defined as they clenched beneath the golden skin.

Fuck, did he know how to talk dirty and he was utterly shameless about it. The dialect rolled off his tongue just as naturally as his American accent. It was something Quatre admired as he couldn’t quite do it himself without blushing like a virgin on her wedding night. Duo’s words, though filthy, were oddly eloquent and poetic in their own way. Coupled with the deep rasp of his voice and the slow, but precise way he spoke, Quatre was convinced he would have made an excellent porn star in another life. Not that he was about to suggest such an occupation for fear Duo would be intrigued enough to try it.

Quatre was damned if he was going to let something like that happen. The possessiveness that gripped him was unfamiliar and a little unsettling and certainly not something he nursed when he wasn’t under the Omega’s influence. While he still had enough wherewithal to understand that these feelings were not rational and was accepting of the fact that all four of them had a right to pursue other relationships, there was that intrusive feeling which manifested as the same voice he’d heard in the bathtub earlier that evening. One that was all too happy to inform him that the Omega was not above sabotaging those relationships if it felt threatened enough by them.

And that scared him because it was so unlike him to do such a thing. He felt powerless in the Omega's grasp despite knowing now that it had always been a part of him. He worried about the hypothetical day that it felt intimidated enough by one of their relationships to take matters into its own metaphorical hands. How powerful was it exactly? Was it strong enough to override his free will and force him to do something he would regret for the rest of his life?

_I’ll just have to be extra vigilant so that doesn’t happen._

The voice returned, uninvited of course and sounding gleefully vindictive. _Good luck with that, kiddo. Now stop overthinking and pleasure us._

His body convulsed as the tip of his finger grazed over his prostate and then snagged the swollen Eroyica gland just beneath it. An intense wave of wicked sensation rushed through his veins and seemed to wrap itself around his bones. His Eroyica gland released another pulse of fluid and he felt the warm trickle make its way towards his fingers, and then run down his hand and wrist before dripping onto the seat pad beneath him.

_That’s it. Good boy. See how good I can make you feel? Don’t you want more of it? Don’t you want your Alphas to pleasure you? Honestly, you should be thanking me for giving you this gift. I’m in the driver’s seat, kitten, so just lay back and let me take you places you never knew existed._

The Omega's pep talk worked like a charm and Quatre’s back arched sharply from a particularly hard jab of his fingers. His mouth dropped open in a soundless cry as his legs clenched tightly around the chair’s arms. “Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck...Duo…”

Duo’s breathing was labored, peppered with heady groans, but he was still able to form a coherent sentence. “That feel good, baby? Mmm. You’re so wet. Yeah, fuck that sweet little ass of yours. Just picture me there, buried balls-deep inside you. It’s not your fingers making you feel so good. It’s my cock touching you in all the right places. Fuck, I can’t wait till Sunday. I’m gonna shove my face between your thighs and eat you out until you come so hard you’ll forget your own name and then I’ll fuck you right there on the floor, just like I did last time. You remember, baby? Remember how amazing I made you feel?”

Quatre jerked his head in a half-nod, arching his neck back until he was staring upside down at the wall behind him. He puffed heavy breaths laced with high-pitched whimpers through his clenched teeth as the pleasure condensed and reached unbearable levels, on the cusp of whisking him away towards oblivion.

His mind conjured up an ethereal image of himself standing on the edge of a steep, rocky cliff. Below him, a vast emptiness stretched out for what seemed like forever and he couldn’t tell if there was a ground beneath the thick white clouds, or if it was an endless abyss with no bottom to reach. He was so close that his bare toes curled over the jagged edge. The wind was strong and cool in his face, blowing his soft curls behind him and he lifted his arms up, unafraid and ready to take flight.

“Duo! Duo...oh, god! It’s - oh, god - m’gonna - gonna come…”

“Come for me, baby. Jump. Let it all go and fly, free as a bird,” Duo prompted in a breathless, ragged voice. Quatre dimly wondered if they were both seeing the same endless expanse from their respective perches at the edge of infinity. “I’m right there with you. I won’t let you fall, I promise. Let me see you come undone.”

Quatre’s fingers pressed hard against his prostate and Eroyica gland and stayed there. The prolonged stimulation was the catalyst that triggered his release, sending him tumbling head-first into a spiraling free fall. He let out a sharp cry as the rush of blinding rapture carried him away and he surrendered to it with helpless abandon.

In his mind’s eye, he’d pushed himself off the edge of the cliff, but instead of plummeting to his death, he was carried along the current, weightless and free. The wind rippled over his chest and belly like a lover’s caress, keeping him high above the clouds as he soared through the heavens to kiss the sky.

But he was not alone. Warm fingers wrapped around his own and then Duo appeared beside him. He smiled and grasped his lover’s hand, holding on tight so they wouldn’t be blown apart by the wind.

_Told you I wouldn’t let you fall. None of us will ever let you fall. We’ve got all the time in the world so let’s spread our wings and explore the universe together._

 

*******

 

Quatre jerked awake sometime later with a crick in his neck and a trail of drool from the corner of his mouth to his chin. He rubbed his eyes and blinked several times to clear his vision, feeling as though he’d just woken from a twenty year coma. His computer screen was still on and he leaned closer, spotting Duo slumped forward with his tousled head resting on his desk.

“Duo?” The other man didn’t even twitch, much less respond. Quatre leaned even closer until his lips were flush with the microphone outlet. “ _Duo!_ ”

An aborted snort drifted through the speakers as Duo’s head shot up, his eyes only half open. “I didn’t do it, Fei, I swear!”

“Duo, wake up. It’s just me. You were dreaming.”

“Quat?” Duo squinted at the screen and his shoulders drooped with relief. “Oh, thank Christ. I was dreaming that Fei caught me tee-peeing his house last Halloween and was about to slice me, dice me, and chicken fried rice me.”

Quatre narrowed his eyes. “You said you didn’t do that.”

Duo grinned like the Cheshire cat. “That’ll be our little secret.” He stretched his arms over his head and groaned. “Man, that was some ride we took, wasn’t it?”

“Are you talking about the virtual sex, or the vision?”

“Both.”

“So you saw it, too then.”

“I didn’t ‘see’ it, Quat. I was there. I can…” Duo trailed off and very slowly dragged his fingers through his hair, keeping it pulled tight away from his face. “I can still feel the wind in my hair, the way my clothes flapped against my skin. I could feel it move under and around me, holding me up so I wouldn’t fall.”

His eyes took on a distant look, as though he was witnessing something only he could see. Or perhaps not because Quatre had seen it, too. “I could feel you. Your hand in mind...so warm, but it’s more than that. I could feel you. All of you. It felt - _feels_ \- like you’re a part of me. Like you’re fused with every atom in my body. I feel like -” He paused and then dropped his head with a self-deprecating laugh. “Never mind. It’s stupid.”

“Tell me,” Quatre pressed, fascinated by the direction this conversation was going. “It’s okay, you can tell me.”

Duo let out a long sigh and sagged against his chair. Quatre watched him lean it back until the front legs lifted off the floor and then spin slightly from one side to the other. “I feel...powerful. I - it feels like I have some kind of energy buzzing around inside me. It crackles sometimes, like my clothes when I forget to use fabric softener. For some reason, I feel like it has a mind of its own.”

"My senses are heightened. I can see, hear, smell, and taste things...like really subtle, vague things that I never could before.” He rubbed his forehead and added, “Last night, I was so horny I couldn’t sleep. I beat off like three times and it still wasn’t enough so instead I just laid there for what had to be hours listening to the hum of my ‘Open/Closed’ sign.”

“That sign is on the other side of the building, Quat. I’ve never been able to hear it from all the way over here and then it felt like - like the energy that’s in me started to sync with the on/off, on/off tempo. It felt like it was beating in time with my heart and all I could think was, ‘Jesus, I’m a human metronome.’”

Quatre nodded, though he had the sense there was more. The only other person who’d expressed a similar experience was Trowa. If Heero and Wufei felt something as well, they’d kept it to themselves. “Go on.”

“I feel invincible, immortal even. Like a god. There’s so much power in me, I feel like testing it to see what it can do, but I don’t know where to start and it - I’m a little scared of what it can do.” He glanced up at Quatre as if he was hoping the blond would ease his fears. “Is that how you feel? Is that how you’ve always felt, being a Newtype and all?”

Quatre shook his head. “Honestly, I don’t really feel any different than I usually do and I don’t think I’ve ever felt like a god. I mean, some things are different now, mainly my libido,” he joked, laughing when Duo did. “But I still feel pretty much the same. I’ve been an active Newtype since I was born so maybe it’s because I’m used to it.”

“Man, I don’t know how you do it, Quat. I’ve only been like this for a few days and I feel like everything is upside down. Like I’m supposed to put my pants on my head and walk around on my hands. I don’t think I could handle being a Newtype.”

“You are a Newtype, Duo. You’ve always been a Newtype.”

“Pretty sure I haven’t.”

“You have. Otherwise you - never mind.”

“What?”

“I’ll tell you everything on Sunday, I promise. I’m so damned tired, I can’t even think straight.”

“I feel you, blondie, believe me. I think I’m finally gonna sleep like the dead tonight, thanks you to. That was the most mind-blowing wank I’ve ever had.” He glanced down at his lap and added, “I think you tuckered the poor little guy out.”

Quatre snorted. “That makes two of us. Though I’m pretty sure I’m stickier than you.”

“That won’t be a problem when I’m there on Sunday,” Duo assured him with a lecherous wink.

“Between the four of you, I doubt it will,” Quatre agreed, flushing to the tips of his ears. “If you’re at all like you were a few nights ago.”

“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet, sweetheart. I have plans for you that involve handcuffs, whipped cream, and my face buried between your ass cheeks. ”

Quatre scoffed playfully in the hopes of shoving back the unmanly giggle that wanted to escape. “Perv.”

“I should warn you though that I might get a little greedy.”

“The others might not appreciate that.”

“Oh, I know they won’t. As much as I’d like to keep you all to myself, I know they’re just as hard up as I am so I think I’d be right if I said they’d probably pop a cap in my ass.”

“Trowa, maybe. Not sure about the other two.”

“Oh, they would. You betcha. I’m halfway convinced that some of my recent insanity has been coming from those three. I dunno know how, or why, but I can feel them. Not as much as I feel you, but they’re there and it’s hard to ignore. I mean, we were all nuts before. Not sure if five certifiable, sex-crazed ex-Gundam pilots mingling with society is a good thing.”

Quatre nodded. “Probably not, but I don’t think we’re too far gone yet. I was told that you guys would be able to sense each other, but that you would sense me more. This doesn’t seem to be a two-way street, though. I can feel you some, but I don’t have a lock on you. Not from this distance anyway. My empathy doesn’t seem to have gotten any stronger since this happened, but you guys have...” He paused, remembering that first night when Trowa had put him to sleep with a mere thought. “You have abilities that I don’t and I don’t know why.”

Though if Iria was correct, it had something to do with being an Alpha. As an Omega, Quatre apparently didn’t need that kind of power because he had four Alphas who did have it breathing down his neck. There was so much information he had yet to learn and god knew how much more that hadn’t even been uncovered yet. The frustrating thing was, there were more theories than facts when it came to Alpha/Omega relationships. So many of the dynamics were vague and almost impossible to recreate in a lab for observation and testing.

There were no blood tests to rule out, or confirm an Omega. No equipment that could measure what was going on. Most of them found out via their families, typically by their parents, one of whom was also an Omega. Knowledge about the hereditary condition was typically a closely-guarded family secret, passed down through word of mouth, usually by the Omega mother, or father and much the same way that any parent would explain the birds and the bees.

As such, records tracing the Omega gene back to its inception were scarce and what few did exist were protected behind heavy bureaucratic barricades which only a select handful of people had access to. Fortunately for Quatre, his sister was one of those people. The fact that several decades went by before it was even ‘discovered’ also put a damper on their ability to understand it. Without knowing its true origin, or why it developed inside the very first human, they had to rely on guesswork, the power of deduction, and countless experiments.

Iria had dubbed the process, ‘Flying by the seat of our pants.’ Not very comforting as far as Quatre was concerned, but he tried to reassure himself that if and when any new information came to light, he would be among the first to know. It wasn’t ideal, but what choice did he have?

Duo’s face was grim as he peered through the screen at him. “I have a feeling this is big. Isn’t it? Bigger than us maybe.”

Quatre nodded and rubbed his hands over his face. “I think it’s safe to say it is bigger than us. It’s still kind of a mystery, but I promise I will tell you everything I do know in a few days.”

“Guess that will have to do,” Duo said through a yawn. “I just wanna say thank you for...y’know. What you did for me tonight. Watching you get yourself off like that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. Made me pop quicker than Fei’s temper.”

“I think you mean last night,” Quatre told him, glancing at the clock. “It’s two in the morning.”

Duo lurched forward, arms and legs flailing as he struggled to pull himself upright. “ _What?!_ Holy sh - how the fuck did so much time go by?”

“I think we were passed out longer than we thought. I called you at nine thirty.”

“Damn. And I gotta be up at six to meet Howard for the Sweepers’ meeting in the fourth district which basically just means a bunch of balding dudes perching their sagging butts on rusting microwaves and cannibalized dishwashers while they scarf down bagels and Krispy Kremes and bitch about their wives. Maybe I’ll play hookie and sleep in.”

“I wish I could do that. I took the last few days off, but I have to go back tomorrow. My colleagues are starting to unravel.”

Duo snorted. “I swear, those pricks you work with can’t even wipe their own asses without a notarized contract and a Powerpoint presentation. How you put up it with it is beyond me.”

Quatre chuckled. “It’s par for the course.”

“I don’t envy you, buddy. I may not have the most glamorous gig in the world, but I don’t think I would survive as a corporate shill. Not - not that you're a shill, of course, but I’m not going to kid myself. I - ah, never mind. It’s not important so how about I quit yapping and let you get some sleep. You need it.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do,” Quatre agreed, lifting his hand to cover a yawn. “If you need anything before Sunday, just give me a call. I don’t know how long this will last so if you need a booster shot, call me, okay?”

“Well, I’ll try to control myself. It’s only a few days and I don’t want to keep bugging you with this.”

“That’s fine, but if you’re in dire straits and nothing else is helping, don’t feel bad about contacting me. I mean it, Duo. I don’t want you guys suffering needlessly.”

“What about you? It’s not exactly healthy to be giving so much of yourself.”

He smiled, touched by the concern. “I’m not sure how much of a choice I have, but I will try not to run myself into the ground. That’s about all I can promise right now.”

“Fair enough,” Duo conceded. “At least make sure you’re rested up by Sunday because I think you’re going to need it.”

“Oh, I know I am.”

Duo hesitated, looking uneasy again. “You sure you’re okay with this? Sunday, I mean.”

_Against my better judgement, I’m looking forward to it. I can’t stop thinking about it and when I do, I wind up soaking my trousers._

His body craved it. There was a place deep inside, too deep for him to reach that itched for something he could not satisfy. Fucking himself on his fingers only worked for so long before it was back and stronger than before. His mind was so preoccupied with the memories of the previous weekend. The physical recollection of lying prone on his living room floor, bleating into the carpet while five separate orgasms were fucked out of him. Fantasies of the sex to come consumed his thoughts so frequently that he couldn’t figure out where the last one ended and the next one began.

It was driving him mad. He wanted it so bad, he could taste it and there were only four people in the entire world that could satisfy him.

“Yeah,” he answered a little shakily. “Yes, I’m okay with it. I - like I said before, I’m not faring much better than you guys. I want it, Duo. I feel like I’ll go mad if it doesn’t happen soon.”

Fuck it. There was no point in lying to himself anymore.

“Hang in there, sweetheart. We’ll be there before you know it and we’ll take good care of you. We’re gonna rock your world and blow your pretty little mind.”

_God, this is not helping._

“Hopefully I can do the same,” he said instead. “But for now, I need sleep. I’m dead on my feet.”

“Okay. Go, get some rest. I’ll see you this weekend if I don’t talk to you before that.”

“Thanks, Duo. Goodnight.”

“G’night. Sleep tight. Don’t let the bedbugs bite," Duo crooned in a voice that was soft and dreamy. It made Quatre think of rainy days and curling up on the sofa with a warm blanket and a cup of soothing chamomile tea. Until he added, "That’s our job now.”

_You bet your ass it is, buster._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *blushes and swan dives head-first into the void*


	12. Debut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quatre returns to WEI a new man and tries to play it cool. Unfortunately for him, his colleagues are anything but accommodating. 
> 
> Perhaps it's not too late to change his name to 'Chad' and become a roadie.

_Wednesday, December 17th, 7:13 am. Colony L4 X1339, Second District…_

“Well, well, well...look what the cat dragged in.”

Quatre glowered darkly as he passed his friend and chief of engineers on his way to his office. “Don’t start with me, Adam. Not in the mood.” He nodded a greeting to his secretary and added, “Bernice, some coffee, please. Strong.”

“Good morning, Mr. Winner. Of course, right away.”

Quatre didn’t wait for the coffee. Bernice would bring it to his office so he continued on down the corridor without another word, hoping that Adam would take a hint for once in his life.

“So what happened to you anyway? You go on some four day bender, or something? Run off with a rent boy maybe?”

_Allah, why have you forsaken me?_

“No, Adam. I did not go on a “bender” and why would I - Jesus, you really think I would run off with a prostitute? I was sick.”

“With what?”

He reached the door to his office and spun around with a huff. “I don’t know. Flu? Will that suffice? Why does it matter?”

Adam shrugged, unfazed by the blond's ruffled feathers. “Just making small talk. We missed you.” He paused, then said, “Could do without your PMS, though.”

Quatre’s eyes narrowed into slits. “Are you finished?”

“I...guess?”

“Spectacular.” He spun around and stuck his key into the lock, pushing the door open with the hand that wasn’t holding his briefcase. He tipped his head back with a long-suffering sigh when Adam followed him in. “Can I at least wake up before you interrogate me? What do you want from me?”

Adam loitered by the doorway and swiped a tiny sculpture off the narrow table against the wall, fiddling with the miniature condor that was carved out of jade. "Just your undying love and affection. Is that so much to ask?"

“Don’t do that, please. It was a gift from my father.”

“Sorry.” He placed the sculpture back down onto the table and turned it until it faced the same way it had before. He folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the doorjamb. “Thought you didn’t like your old man.”

Quatre plopped down into his chair and dropped his briefcase onto the desk. “Regardless of his shortcomings, he was still my father.”

“Awww, sweet, loyal Quatre Winner. So devoted to the family that disowned him as a child and nearly ruined him.”

He looked up sharply. “Are you just here to piss me off?”

“No, I’m just talking. I said we missed you.”

“We, or you?”

“We. Well, I - most of us, I think. Not so sure about Shamir. I think his ass is still a little chapped after you rejected him for the thousandth time."

"His problem, not mine."

“Jeez, give the poor guy a little slack. You did break his heart and all,” Adam reminded him with a playful wink.

“The only thing I broke was his ego."

“Same difference. I mean, what’s the problem? He’s royalty. He has more money than god. He’s drop dead gorgeous. And he wants you. What’s wrong with this picture?”

“I’m not going to be a notch on anyone’s bedpost, Adam,” he snapped. “He's too full of himself. He thinks he can charm anyone he wants into sleeping with him. That's not going to work on me.”

“He can charm me into his bed anytime. Don't think I'm attractive enough for him, though.”

“You don’t know him like I do, Adam. He’s a predator. His lovers are not partners, or equals in his eyes. They’re conquests.”

 _And ironically enough, you got off on that very same idea just last night. Four times, I might add,_ the Omega reminded him.

_Would you butt out? No one asked for your opinion._

“You say that like it’s a bad thing. I sincerely doubt any of them are complaining,” Adam pointed out, moving further into the room to let Bernice through with her tray of coffee.

“Thank you, Bernice,” Quatre said, taking the cup from her and blowing on the steaming coffee to cool it off.

“Would you like anything else, sir? My sister-in-law fried up some of her famous cinnamon and sugar doughnuts last night and gave me a dozen to bring in. They disappear pretty fast.”

“No, that’ll be all, Bernice. Thank you.”

Adam watched her bustle her way out of the room and waited until she was far enough down the hall to not overhear their conversation. “Besides, you two would look amazing together. Like yin and yang. Ebony and Ivory.”

“You did not just bring up Stevie Wonder and Paul McCartney in that context.”

“ _Live together in perfect...harmony_ ,” Adam crooned softly.

He dropped his head onto his desk with a thump. “It’s too early for this.”

Adam’s shoulders shook with laughter. “Oh, lighten up. I’m just yanking your chain. Mostly. I still say you two would make a gorgeous power couple. Him, all tall, dark, and handsome. Built like a gladiator. You, dainty and fair, blue eyes and golden hair.”

“Life is not a fairy tale. Shamir is not some noble prince and I am not a delicate maiden hidden away in a tower guarded by an evil sorcerer.”

“But he is a prince,” Adam insisted. “That’s one out of two, right? Not too shabby.”

“Nobility is more important than royal status,” Quatre muttered as he powered up his computer. “But to each his own.”

Adam came all the way into the room and sat down in one of the two chairs that faced the front of Quatre’s desk. “You know he only works here to get closer to you, don’t you? It’s not like he needs the money.”

“Not my problem.”

“Imagine the life you could have with him,” he said dreamily. “He can give you the world and then some. You wouldn’t have to lift a finger for the rest of your life. Think about it. Lounging on an exotic beach during the day. Him rubbing suntan oil into your skin. Just the two of you, the white sand, the blue water, warm sunshine, the scent of sweat and coconuts. And after that, a fancy party perhaps? Shamir sparing no expense, of course. Expensive champagne and caviar, music and dancing all night long underneath the moonlight.”

Quatre scowled at him over the top of his computer monitor. “Are you suggesting I abandon my responsibilities for a man?”

“And then in the wee hours of the morning,” Adam continued. “The sounds of a crackling fire and soft, sensual music drifting into your ears. Silk sheets and gauzy drapes surrounding a giant bed. You sprawled out in the middle of it with those sheets tangled around your writhing body, gripping handfuls of it while your strong, muscular prince makes sweet love to you…”

Quatre propped his chin on his fist and gave his friend a wry look. “Is this fantasy for me, or for you?”

Adam snapped back to the present and scoffed as he crossed one leg over the other, a gesture that Quatre suspected had more to do with concealing a budding erection than gentlemanly etiquette. “I’m just saying, you two would be hot together. You do know I’m not the only one who thinks so, right?”

He did know that and it made him intensely uncomfortable. He turned his attention back to his computer screen and tried to concentrate on the revenue reports for the previous fiscal year. Not an easy thing to do when his mind was chasing circles around itself. “I’m not interested in relationships that benefit anyone other than myself and my partner. God knows I watched my father cater to the public’s expectations of him. He married women he didn’t love, which led to him chasing every piece of ass in a pencil skirt and a pair of Stilettos he could find on the colony," he snorted. “And he actually expected me to follow in his footsteps as if that was ever going to happen.”

“You were born and raised for the public eye,” Adam mused, stroking his chin. “Kind of seems like its own form of bondage, or...maybe even slavery in a way. Your life is not your own. It belongs to the world and you have no say in what happens to it.”

Quatre swallowed the bitter lump in his throat and reached for his coffee. “But I did. I do. As far as I was concerned, there was a snowball’s chance in Hell I was going to end up like my father. I made a choice.”

“Yeah,” Adam agreed. “At a very steep price.”

He smiled. “Not so steep. If I hadn’t gone my own way, I might be living an entirely different life and one I don't doubt would be miserable in.”

“Yet you’re still here running your father’s company.”

He scowled and yanked his mail out of the sorter to his right with a little more force than necessary. “I’m upholding my responsibilities.”

Adam gave him a derisive look, knowing his friend would never cop to the real reason unless it was spelled out for him. “Cut the crap, Quatre. You’re a control freak. You’re doing this because you think you’re the only one who can.”

Quatre stared him in shock, jaw hanging low on its hinges. “I beg your pardon?”

“How long have we been friends, hmm? Three years? Five?”

“Your point?”

“My point is I’ve known you long enough to understand how you operate,” Adam told him, plucking a piece of hard candy from the crystal dish on Quatre’s desk. Quatre waited, his nerves on edge from the crackling of the cellophane as Adam unwrapped the candy. “I’ve watched you volunteer to do certain tasks that you’ve specifically hired people to do because you think they can't do it as well as you can.”

Offended, Quatre’s mouth worked back and forth trying to form a response, but the only thing that came to mind was petulant denial. “I do not!”

Adam popped the candy into his mouth and tossed the wrapped towards the trash can though it missed by several inches. He worried the candy between his teeth before he tongued it to the side where it bulged his left cheek out. “Don’t even try it, Quatre. You do.”

He was prepared to launch a counter argument until he thought better of it and slumped in his chair, defeated. Who was he kidding? He was a control freak. A nitpicking perfectionist who was too narcissistic to believe his employees could do as good a job as him. “Shit.”

“And they say blondes are dumb,” Adam teased.”

Quatre pitched his fountain pen at him and Adam dodged to the right just in time for the projectile to whizz past his ear. “You're a dick.”

Adam pointed a finger as he leaned down to snatch the pen off the floor. “Quit acting like a spoiled brat, or I’ll tell Shamir on you.”

“What’s he going to do? Fire me? Write me up? Send me to HR for a good talking to?”

“I was thinking something along the lines of him turning you over his knee for a much-deserved spanking.”

Quatre’s face turned beet red. He looked away and busied himself with shuffling papers around on his desk. “Why am I even friends with you?”

“Because you love me.”

“Get out.”

Adam tipped his head back and sighed before pulling himself out of the chair. “Fine, I'll go. I just hope you’re less of a diva when I see you at lunch.”

“And give me back my pen.”

Adam stuffed it into his suit pocket. “Nuh-uh. Not until you can handle writing utensils responsibly,” he scolded and then ducked quickly as a stapler sailed over his head. He picked it up and held it triumphantly. “I’ll hang onto this, too.”

“Alright,” Quatre chirped in a snotty tone. “I’ll just take them out of your paycheck.”

“I’m telling Shamir on you.”

“Don’t you have work to do?”

“Just one more thing.”

Quatre glared at him, knowing damned well that whatever it was, it was going to piss him off. “What?”

“Can I watch?”

“Get _out!_ ”

 

*******

 

_10:49 am…_

“Excuse me, Mr. Winner, but wouldn’t it be more efficient to use the new plastics technology innovated by Nu-Plastics to endure the extreme cold of space and the heat garnered by spacecraft thrusters?”

Quatre pulled his pointer away from the interactive screen mounted on the conference room wall that displayed the blueprints for WEI’s next phase in resource satellite design. He slapped the extended tip back into its casing with a sharp click and calmly observed the newest member of his executive team.

The guy was on the rather scrawny side with thick-lens glasses resting on the bridge of a nose that was too large for its owner’s face. Behind the lenses, two beady eyes glanced around nervously when he realized the rest of the room’s occupants were sizing him up.

“And why do you think we should do that, Mr…?”

“Jenner, sir.”

“Mr. Jenner.”

“Well,” he squeaked and then blushed and cleared his throat. “Well, like I said, it’s more cost efficient than the titanium alloy that’s been used since the dawn of the space age. It’s also much lighter to transport which cuts down on fuel and it's more malleable to work with.”

Quatre lifted a brow. “Continue.”

“It’s all the rage, I hear. Sampson and Sons have been using it for nearly a year now and they can’t say enough good things about it. Edmond Sampson even said that the company has received a three point five increase in profit from the reduction of costs for materials and fuel.”

Quatre smiled and stepped closer to the head of the long, ebony-topped table. He leaned over until his hands were flat on the glossy surface and looked Jenner straight in the eyes. “I realize you are new to WEI and are still learning our ways, but if there’s one thing you need to remember, it’s this: I am not a man who puts profit above the safety and health of my workers, Jenner. Do you understand?”

Jenner’s beady eyes widened comically as blood rushed to the tops of his ears. “Y - yes. Yes, sir.”

Quatre straightened and turned to face the blueprints displayed on the screen, standing with his back to his team and his hands clasped behind him. “The reason why this company does not use Nu-Plastics for our satellite construction is because there has not been sufficient time to test the safety and endurance of the materials under the extreme conditions of space in a way that pleases my - admittedly - personal level of paranoia.”

A ripple of soft laughter broke the silence that followed before Quatre continued. “Nothing is guaranteed, Jenner. Especially in space. I am not about to start getting reckless for the sole purpose of cutting financial corners to make a few extra dollars.” He glanced over his shoulder at Jenner. “That would be irresponsible on my part, don’t you think?”

Jenner’s face was flaming as he looked down at his lap. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry, Mr. Winner. I hadn’t thought of that.”

“That’s what meetings are for, Jenner. Don’t hesitate to ask questions here.”

“Thank you, I won’t.”

Quatre spun back around to face his colleagues. “Does anyone else have any questions?” He waited patiently for several seconds, making eye contact with every man and woman in the room. When no one responded, he nodded and clapped his hands together, “Then I’ll call this meeting adjourned. Go have a great lunch, everyone. I expect the designs to be resubmitted by the end of the day with the corrections we’ve discussed.”

The room cleared out while he gathered his papers and shut off of the screen. He was supposed to meet Adam at a trendy little French cafe a few blocks away in fifteen minutes, but still had a few things to finish up before he left.

As he finished placing the protective cover over the computer screen, he sensed a presence in the room. Heavy and familiar, but no one he could pin down. There was a tickle in the pit of his stomach, like a rush of butterflies and he could feel his heart rate increase, slightly, but noticeable.

He turned slowly and his pulse quickened even more, though for reasons he didn’t quite understand yet. Even from across the room, he saw the man’s nostrils flare a little as he stood still and silent, stunning and imposing at the same time.

Quatre’s flight, or fight instincts inexplicably kicked in. His senses were on high alert, reminding him of the surge of adrenaline before a battle, though he couldn't figure out the source of this reaction. He summoned his best professional smile, hoping it didn't look as wooden as it felt. “Good morning, Shamir. Is there something I can do for you?”

Shamir didn't speak, much less move aside from the rise and fall of his chest which seemed to match the increased pace of his own breathing. He was on the verge of repeating the question when Shamir finally answered.

“I was thinking you would do me the honors of joining me for lunch.” He spoke in a slow and heavily accented rumble, one that Quatre now associated with seduction. It seemed to reverberate through the walls and floor, traveling through his feet and up his legs. His beautifully chiseled face was clean-shaven, but Quatre could see the beginnings of a five o’clock shadow already appearing along the sharp edge of his jaw. The man’s eyes were large and set deep into his sun-darkened face. In the right light, they shimmered gold in rich tones of honey and amber. Like warm mahogany and liquid sex as Adam liked to describe them and Quatre couldn’t deny the truth in that.

He’d rejected Shamir’s advances two weeks ago and it was not the first time he’d had to do that. The prince was relentless in his pursuit which Quatre guessed was the result of a wounded ego that was not accustomed to being told no. Shamir was the kind of man who could have anyone he wanted and he knew it. He was convinced that rejection was impossible and as far as Quatre knew, it had been impossible.

Until now.

But honestly, who could blame him? Adam wasn’t exaggerating when he waxed poetic about the Saudi Adonis’ masculine beauty, ungodly amount of sex appeal, and heady air of danger that wrapped around him like a shroud. He oozed power and dominance from every golden pore.

He’d gotten this job at WEI after a series of nude photos were leaked on the internet and the royal family, publicly disgraced by his lewd conduct, had shunned him. Quatre employed him in good conscience, able to empathize with the prince’s plight, until he was back on his feet again.

He was forgiven only six months later and invited to return home, but he'd declined, citing his responsibility to Quatre’s company as the reason he wasn’t willing to leave yet.

Quatre knew better. Only a few weeks after taking Shamir under his corporate wing, he started to second guess his decision. The excuse given for Shamir’s refusal to go home wasn’t about some admirable sense of loyalty, or responsibility to the company.

It wasn’t even about a sense of responsibility towards his employer.

Or loyalty.

Hell, it wasn’t even admirable.

No, Shamir stayed because he had a raging boner for his boss.

Three months into his ostracization, during a post-scandal interview - because of course there were interviews - he’d effectively broken the hearts of at least half the world’s female population. Quatre had been watching the interview with a few colleagues in the break room as Shamir proudly announced his preference for his own gender and could have sworn he’d heard the mournful lamentation of millions of women whose fantasies of being on the arm of one of the world’s most beautiful men went down in a blaze of glory.

But Shamir didn’t stop there. He also apparently thought it was his civic duty to inform those tuning in, on daytime TV no less, that he was a top with a strong proclivity towards slender, willowy blondes who were married to their jobs.

Following that racy expose, Quatre was convinced he’d heard the exuberant cries of gay men everywhere, decrying, “That’s so me! He’s talking about me! Hallelujah!” He wouldn't have been surprised if the makers of bottle blond hair dye were laughing all the way to the bank.

But he’d known better. The sultry curl of Shamir’s lips as he winked into the camera felt like a bullseye was slapped on his back. Or rather, his back _side_. Unnerved, he’d excused himself from the lounge and sought refuge in the nearest men’s room to splash cold water on his face and calm his racing heart down.

He’d always seen Shamir for what he was. A player. A manipulator. A greedy, selfish son of a bitch with a god complex who treated everyone around him like toys placed there for his personal entertainment. But now, as he stood facing the prince from across the conference room, he saw something else he’d never even been aware of until now.

Before today, when the Omega inside him had been dormant, Quatre had seen him as just another man. Nothing more. Now, the awakened entity that he shared a body and mind with was showing him things he was almost too afraid to believe were real.

Shamir was an Alpha. It couldn’t have been any clearer if it was tattooed onto his forehead.

Through willpower alone, Quatre managed to control the tremor in his hands, and voice, as he stacked his notes into his briefcase and snapped the brass clamps shut. He suspected the man already knew about the Omega, but opted to play ignorant unless he was backed into a corner. “I’m sorry, Shamir, but I have a prior engagement.”

“With whom?”

He tensed at the nosy prodding that was buried beneath a facade of genuine curiosity. “I’ve already made lunch plans with Adam.”

There was a long pause and then, “I see.”

He looked up and summoned a winning smile as he pulled his briefcase off the table. If he could convince Shamir that nothing had changed, he might be able to get out of there unscathed. “Rain check?”

Instead, Shamir slinked further into the room and held Quatre’s gaze with eyes that seemed to glow like molten lava. “Maybe Adam should get the rain check.”

A hot spark of anger curled around Quatre’s spine and effectively smothered the churning panic in his belly. _Who does this pompous prick think he is?_

“Maybe not,” he retorted in a clipped tone and made his way to the door, prepared to fight his way out if it came down to it. He may have been a good three, or four stones lighter than the other man, but Shamir had never been a soldier. He’d never had to fight for his life before and that gave Quatre an unexpected advantage.

He cursed under his breath as Shamir predictably side-stepped to the right and blocked his exit, staring down at Quatre with that infuriating trademark smirk of his. “You seem...different.”

Quatre bristled, but forced himself to calm down, knowing that riling him up was exactly what Shamir wanted. He returned the smirk and snarked, “And you’re still an egotistical asshole. What’s your point?”

Shamir tipped his head back and laughed and Quatre had never been more tempted to kick someone in the nuts. The audacious prince beamed at him with a mischievous - and patronizing - twinkle in his amber eyes. “C’mon. Let me take you to lunch. I think we have some things to discuss.”

“No, we don’t,” he snipped. “There is nothing to discuss. We are not going to lunch together. And you need to get out of my way. Now.”

Shamir stared him down and he returned it unwavering. It was down to a test of wills, but when it came to stubbornness, Quatre was every inch his father's son.

_Go ahead, pal. I can do this all day._

He didn’t expect the challenge to last very long and he was right. After only a few minutes, Shamir smiled serenely and stepped to the side, gesturing politely at the door. “After you.”

He sneered and stormed out into the hallway, walking briskly towards his office when the man spoke his name. “What?” He barked, not bothering to turn around.

“I couldn’t help but notice how good you smell. Is that - is that a new cologne you’re wearing?”

Quatre could hear it in his voice, the faux coyness coupled with a smug undertone that set off enough red flags inside his head that he almost expected his brain to ping the security system. The Omega flailed about inside him in a flurry of panic and he willed it to calm the way a parent might soothe a fussy child.

Shamir knew. Just as Quatre knew all the way down to his bones that the man was an Alpha, Shamir knew he was an Omega. He could smell the active Eroyica gland even though it was not producing slick at the moment. Something that no normal human’s olfactory senses could detect. 

He glared at the man over his shoulder and hissed, “You may be an Alpha, but you do not have any control here, much less over me. I would strongly advise you to keep your mouth shut as well as your distance if you wish to remain on our staff. Are we clear?”

Shamir seemed unfazed by the threat, merely lifting his hands and nodding agreeably. “Crystal.”

“Good. Go have your lunch and then get back to work. You pull anything like this again and I _will_ fire you.”

“As you wish,” Shamir rumbled, taking a backwards step in the opposite direction. "We'll talk later," he added before turning to make his way down the hall.

Quatre glowered at his back, furious at the audacity. He’d heard the insincerity in his voice, but let it go for the time being. He picked up the pace back to his office, feeling like he was going to puke.

He waved Bernice off when she stood up in concern, instantly noticing his green and shaken state. “I’m fine. Just...hold my calls, will you?”

He retreated into his office and shut the door, leaning his back against it while he tried to slow his pounding heart. Legs trembling and weak, he slid down until his butt rested on the blue carpet and wiped the thin coating of sweat off his forehead with his sleeve.

_Get a grip, Quat. You’re fine. Nothing happened so just relax._

He’d never had an interaction with Shamir that affected him so adversely. Typically their exchanges involved Shamir coming onto him and Quatre brushing him off with nothing more than mild irritation over the man’s persistence. He couldn’t tell if he was about to faint, or throw up and he wondered if he was experiencing a panic attack.

He was tempted to call Trowa for confirmation since he occasionally suffered from them, but Quatre didn’t have the strength to do much more than type a quick text to Adam, canceling their lunch date with a heart-felt apology and an excuse that he wasn't feeling well. With that out of the way, he pressed down on his phone’s power button until it turned off and then dropped it onto the floor.

A few minutes later, the panic began to subside, but exhaustion took its place. His head felt heavy and kept bobbing without his consent. His body listed to the side and after the second time, he didn’t have the energy to right himself again. He went with it until he lay on his side and let his muscles go lax. It wasn’t the most comfortable position. With nothing supporting his head, his neck was arched at an odd angle, but even that no longer mattered once the fatigue forced his eyelids to droop and his thoughts to blur together into a long, nonsensical string of fog.

_Jus’ gonna res - rest my eyes for a...minute. Jus’ for a…_

 

*******

 

He woke up about a half an hour later on his back with his legs splayed wide and his knees drawn up close to his chest. He was overheated, wet, and aching with arousal. With a pained groan, he rolled onto his side and pushed himself up to a sitting position, cursing the soaked seat of his trousers and the stain in the carpet.

Parts of him were still left behind in the vividly erotic dream and refused to come back to reality. He could still feel the slight scratch of stubble against the sensitive inner cheeks of his ass and the warm, wet mouth that reduced him to an incoherent mess of whimpers and shameless pleading. He couldn’t recall who his dream lover was and the more he tried to picture him, the more the man’s face became obscured behind an inky black veil of mist that seemed to swallow everything around him.

His body was still craving stimulation, in need of release and he buried his head between his knees, wondering what he’d done in a past life to deserve this.

_You’re not going to chill until I make you happy, are you?_

His answer came in another flood of warm slick and he huffed with annoyance as he quickly slid his trousers off and made sure the door was locked.

_Damn you. Fine, I’ll do it because I know you’re not going to stop until I do and I’m not leaving this room while I'm in danger of behaving like an alley cat in heat.  But you owe me. Big time._

He laid back down on the floor and slid his hand between his opened thighs. His fingers skimmed over his slick-dampened skin, seeking the opening between his legs that was begging for penetration. He blew out a deep breath and bit down on his tongue to stay quiet as he pushed two fingers inside, giving up any semblance of control when the Omega inevitably swooped in grabbed the reigns.

It was quick and messy. There was no time to draw it out and he didn’t want anyone knocking on the door while he was still in the midst of fucking himself to completion. He drew his fingers out and then roughly shoved them back inside, rubbing the tips over his prostate and Eroyica, applying enough pressure to reach orgasm in the shortest amount of time.

After only two minutes, he slapped his free hand over his mouth and bit into the flesh of his palm as his body convulsed in the throes of climax, terrified that someone would hear him. He endured the gush of fluid that flooded down his hand, drenching the floor beneath him, and closed his eyes when his cock twitched an instant later and emptied itself over his groin and belly. When it was over, he lay sprawled and panting with his hand still over his mouth until he felt strong enough to get up.

_Look at you laying there with your legs wide open and covered in your own slick. You still think I owe you after making you come like that?_

"You’re just damn lucky I keep spare clothes in here," he griped at the gloating Omega, shaking his discarded trousers out and rolling them up into a ball. If anyone asked, he spilled hummus on his suit and needed to change.

Lame, but it would have to do.

Comfortably dry in his clean clothes and languid with post-orgasm afterglow, he sunk down into his chair and tried to figure out what his next move would be regarding Shamir.

If the man knew what was good for him, he would respect Quatre’s wishes and back off. If not, Quatre would be forced to terminate him and he was not above using legal avenues if harassment became an issue. The last thing he wanted was to get his lovers involved in this unless it was absolutely necessary.

_They’re there to protect you._

“Since it seems to have escaped your notice, Sleeping Beauty, I should inform you of my personal involvement in two wars, both of which my side won. I can very well handle myself, no thanks to you.”

_What’s that supposed to mean?_

“It means that I’ve fought my own battles my entire life, without your help I might add, and you weren’t exactly jumping at the chance to defend me back in the conference room, were you?”

The Omega was quiet for a long time and Quatre wasn’t sure what to make of that. He didn’t feel any anger, or resentment. It was more like...shame?

_It’s not my job to protect. It’s my job to be protected._

“That’s not a job.”

_Oh, you know what I mean! I wasn’t created to be a protector. That duty falls to my - our- Alphas. That’s what they’re programmed for._

“So what are you programmed for? To reward them for keeping me alive?”

The Omega didn’t answer and he immediately knew that was what it was. “Oh, Jesus! Are you kidding me? That’s all you exist for? To provide sexual favors in return for protection?”

_Hey! I don’t make the rules, okay? That’s just the way it is._

He buried his face in his hands. “I don’t believe this.”

_You’re an endangered species, Quatre. That’s why I exist. That’s why Alphas exist. Too keep your kind from being hunted to extinction._

“What the hell are you? Where did you even come from?”

_I'm evolution. I exist because mankind became advanced enough to conceive and birth a new generation in an environment that was only made possible less than two hundred years ago. That was the catalyst that created the very first Newtype and as we know, Newtypes have access to parts of their brains that normal humans don't which is what gives you your gifts. But your kind is still relatively new and your numbers are small. You’re vulnerable. If someone really wanted to, they could exterminate all of you alive today without much effort and then the natural process of human evolution would have to start all over again from scratch. Without you, I wouldn't exist and neither would Alphas._

“So to keep that from happening, you...developed from the brains of Newtypes I’m guessing, to recruit protectors in order to preserve our fragile genetic line? That would mean you have a very personal stake in my survival because my survival is your survival.”

_By George, I think he’s got it!_

He scoffed. “Why are you so sex-obsessed, though?”

_Think about it. What’s the one thing that drives human instinct as much, or even more than survival?_

He dropped his head onto his desk, knowing full well where this was going. “Procreation.”

_Bingo. Where would mankind be if you preferred cuddling and conversation over the desire to boink each other? Extinct, that's where you'd be. Kicking up dust just like the dinosaurs. The need to mate exists in every species and humans are no different. At the end of the day, you're just a bunch of filthy beasts trying to get laid._

"Thanks."

_Alphas need incentive. Something to make all this worth their while. That’s our job. To make them feel good. So good that they can’t get enough. All we have to do is lay back, open our legs, and let them go to town whenever they pop a boner._

"What's this "we" shit? The only one I see doing that is me. You don't even _have_ legs."

_I'm as much a part of this as you are, kiddo. I feel everything you feel. I know your every waking thought and every unconscious dream. I'm the one that makes sure the sex is the best you've ever had. Or are you going to try to tell me the men you've been with before made you feel like this?_

They both knew the answer to that, but Quatre was not about to give the Omega the satisfaction of admitting it. He changed the subject instead. “And what about what we need?”

_We’re getting it already, by being safe. Getting fucked while we’re tired, or not in the mood is a small price to pay. Be grateful that’s the only price._

Quatre rested his chin on his palm and stared at the Van Gogh that was hung on the opposite wall, wondering what freakish alternate universe he’d stumbled into. “So basically, we’re just...glorified pimps and whores. That’s what I’m getting from this.”

_Call it whatever you’d like, I don’t care. I’m just here to motivate and reward your Alphas for keeping you safe._

“So why are you so concerned with my pleasure then?”

_Our pleasure._

“Whatever.”

_Why wouldn’t I want us to be pleasured in return? Reward goes both ways. How much are you going to feel beholden to your Alphas if you’re not enjoying the sex? Can’t have you going AWOL because you’re bitter about getting plowed every other day._

Couldn't argue with that logic, he supposed. “Okay, but - wait. Let’s back this crazy train up for a second. About the procreation thing...”

_Mmm-hmm?_

“Maybe it escaped your notice, but I’m a man in a relationship with four other men. As bizarre as this situation is, I’m pretty sure there’s no chance of me getting knocked up.”

_There are other ways to create life, Quatre._

“But that’s -” he froze as the reality of what the Omega was suggesting wrapped around his bones like a sheet of ice. “Oh, no. Nuh-uh. No, no, no. Absolutely not. No fucking way in Hell!”

_Quatre -_

“No! I won’t do it. I refuse! I will never agree to that!”

_At some point, you are going to have to pass on your genes. Pass on your Omega to your offspring._

Tears prickled at the backs of his eyes as furious denial wrapped around him like a cloak.

Actually it felt more like a straight-jacket.

“But I don’t want kids! I’ve never wanted kids and I refuse to become like my father, damn it! You can't do this to me!”

_You are not your father. Creating children by artificial means does not and will not turn you into your father. Deep down, you know that._

He sniffled and angrily scrubbed away the tears that rolled down his cheeks. “You don’t even know my father. He died before you woke up...or whatever.”

_You think I didn’t know your father? I was dormant, Quatre. Not dead._

“The hell does that even mean?”

_Ugh! Just - never mind. It’s not important right now. What is important is that you begin making plans for your future and yes, that includes planning for children. You still have plenty of time before it comes to that, but if you don’t, everything that’s happening now will be for nothing. Every Omega alive must continue the line._

“Why? Why is it so crucial for people like me to survive? What does it matter if we die out?”

The Omega’s response was incredulous.  _Are you serious? Survival of your kind is empirical for the survival of human civilization! You, and those like you are the prototypes for the next stage in human evolution. A new race of superhumans. Without people like you, such a thing wouldn’t even be possible. Through you, humans will begin to evolve with higher brain function which is necessary for technological advancements and interstellar travel. Through you, humans will develop unprecedented levels of disease resistance, be able to combat life-threatening genetic conditions and deformities before they have a chance to develop._

_And with higher brain function, conflicts will become obsolete. No more war, Quatre. Imagine that. A race of humans who carry all the good traits of their predecessors and none of the bad._

The concept was intriguing, but…”Isn’t the "good versus evil" dichotomy subjective, though?”

_Are you saying men who start wars are not evil?_

“It depends on why they do it,” he pointed out, feeling a little squeamish as he remembered the acts of violence he’d committed in the name of peace. “Sometimes it’s just...necessary. Sometimes it’s the only option you have left to protect those you care about.”

_And why would you need to do that if there are no evil people left to threaten them?_

He snorted. “What you’re trying to sell me here sounds more like fantasy than reality.”

_How so?_

“It’s not realistic! It’s not even... _human_. If we’re being honest, it sounds almost ideologically fascist, if not completely impossible.”

_You don’t believe humans can achieve total pacifism?_

“If we could, would we even be human anymore?"

_Explain._

He rubbed his forehead, flustered by the Omega’s childish naivety. “Humans are - since our creation, or evolution, or whatever you want to call it, we've been different. From each other, I mean. We’ve always been individuals with our own minds, our own interests, dreams, fears, aspirations, and goals. What you’re talking about here is - it’s a hive mind. Collectivism that forces every single one of us into identical molds.”

_And that’s bad...why?_

“Argh!” He squeezed his eyes shut and dragged his fingers through his hair, frustrated and at a loss as to how he could explain it in a way that the Omega would understand. “Look, one of our most prominent and cherished traits is our uniqueness, our individuality. The things that make us different from each other. If we no longer have that, who’s to say we’d even be human anymore? You might as well just pick us off an assembly line. It would be easier to create a race of robots that could do the same.”

_But it’s your differences that create conflict._

“It’s our differences that also achieve peace! It’s our differences that even make it possible for us to love one another. It's our differences that have gotten us to where we are today. If you take that away from us, what would be our purpose? What would be the point?"

_Wouldn’t it be worth it if there was no more war?_

He took a minute to think about it. _Really_ think about it, but every potential path he followed ended up in the exact same place. The best case scenario, they’d end up being the most dreadfully boring species alive. The worst case, the loss of self. The loss of identity. When you boiled away everything that obscured the end result, you were left with only one conclusion.

The loss of humanity.

The answer, for him, was clear. “No. No, I - it would not be worth it.”

The Omega didn’t answer right away and Quatre got the sense that he’d offended it. “Don’t be mad.”

_I’m not mad!_

“You’re not actually trying to lie to me, are you?”

_I’m not - okay, you know what? You're just so - I can't do this. This discussion is over._

He shrugged, unbothered. The Omega could give him the silent treatment all it wanted, but no matter how angry it got, it would always be at a disadvantage because it was trapped inside him, an extension of himself. There was nowhere for it to go.

“You do realize we’re stuck with each other, right? We’re going to have to learn to get along. You can’t keep trying to dictate everything I think, say, and do. That’s not going to happen no matter how many tizzies and temper tantrums you throw.”

No response. The Omega had already retreated deep inside his mind where it was no doubt sulking. So be it. It wasn’t going anywhere and sooner, or later it would have to come out of hiding. “Alright, fine. Have it your way, but this discussion is far from over. I hope you know that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess when inspiration strikes, you gotta take full advantage. Thank you for reading. Hope you're enjoying it so far!


	13. Host With the Most

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was times like these that the Omega wished it had a physical body, even if only a face and a palm to slap it with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okely-dokely, the wait is over. Reunion time!
> 
> Heads up for:  
> Omegaverse smut (group sex, gangbang, rimming)  
> Gooey 3x4 cheese  
> An overly festive Quatre
> 
> Can't go wrong with that. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

_Sunday, December 21st, 201, 7:13am. L4 X1339, Ninth District…_

 

_I see you’ve finally accepted your fate. You’re primping like a teenage girl who’s anticipating getting her cherry popped on prom night._

Quatre clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he fussed with his hair. “As if you had no hand in this.”

_Hey, you can get pounded in a dumpster for all I care. As long as it happens._

“It’s amazing how much you don’t know considering how much you do.”

_I don’t follow._

“Exactly.”

_I think it’s safe to say I know more than you do, but - ugh, you know what? Whatever. Forget it._

Quatre snorted and selected a bottle of cologne from the shelf where he kept a variety of fragrances. He’d never been a fan of musk and shied away from strongly masculine scents, too paranoid that people would think he was trying to overcompensate.

Today, he chose something sweet with a hint of spicy seduction. Delicate, but with an air of debauchery. A scent that said,  _‘Hey, fellas. I may be a lady in the streets, but if you play your cards right, I'll be a freak between your sheets’._ “You’re shit at debating, you know that?”

_You want a debate? Okay, I have one. Do you really think they’re going to care about what cologne you’re wearing?_

“I care. It’s the principle of the thing. I’m trying to make a concerted effort to be attractive here, okay? What’s it to you anyway?”

_You’re already attractive, that’s the point. You’ve already got them hooked around your finger, thanks to me. You could open the door in a potato sack and it wouldn’t matter one iota. The only ‘cologne’ they’ll even notice is the slick your body makes. That’s the scent that will drive them wild._

Quatre glared at his reflection. “You are such a buzzkill.”

_I’m just stating fact. Don’t blame the messenger and don’t act like that didn’t turn you on. I felt that little thrill._

“Doesn’t mean I shouldn’t make an effort,” he countered, blushing a little. “Whether they notice, or not, it’s something I want to do for them because it makes me feel like I’m doing something instead of laying back and taking it so quit bitching and let me do this.”

_You’re going to lay back and take it anyway. It’s all you can think about._

He scowled and turned to leave the bathroom. “You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?”

_No, my dear Quatre. I’m the exact opposite._

An overpowering flare of arousal brought him to his knees in the middle of his bedroom floor. He panted heavily, clenching his teeth as his body released a flood of slick which seeped into the towel around his waist. “ _Fuck!_ What are you doing?!”

_Reminding you that you are not in control here. You’d do good to remember that, kiddo._

He bit into the heel of his hand and endured the throbbing lust that pulsed through his blood until it finally began to fade enough for him to breathe again. “God damn you.”

_God’s got nothing to do with this, sweetheart. You still have much to learn, but it would benefit you greatly if you’d start accepting that certain things are beyond your control. It will save you a lot of headaches down the road._

He wiped the sweat that had gathered on his brow with the back of his hand and shakily got to his feet. “Fine, but could you at least warn me next time before you pull something like that?”

_No promises._

“Thanks for being honest, I guess,” he muttered, pulling the towel off and using it to clean the slick from his backside. Curiosity got the better of him and he brought it back around, lifting the damp green terry cloth to his face. He recognized the sweet and earthy scent by now and with only a moment’s hesitation, he poked his tongue out and prodded the fabric with it. It had a slightly sugary taste, but it wasn’t as strong as it smelled. Beneath that, he could pick up a very faint musky tang and what he thought was metal. “Is that blood I’m tasting?”

_No, it’s iron. Your Eroyica gland extracts essential vitamins and minerals from your blood as well as the sugar your body converts into energy. It also needs water to produce it. I’m sure you’re aware of your increased appetite and thirst, not to mention the sudden craving for sweets._

“So they’re basically feeding off me when they consume it, is that it?”

_Your Alphas are going to be exerting a ton of energy and it’s not always plausable to stop and eat, especially when they’re rutting. They’ll take what they need from you instead. That’s why it’s empirical that you make sure you’re eating throughout the day and drinking plenty of water. You’re eating and drinking for five now._

“Fabulous,” he grumbled as he pulled a powder blue silk shirt from his closet. “Nothing better than feeling like you just gave birth to a litter of puppies.”

_You’re not actually going to pretend that was how you felt when they were doing that a week ago, are you? That you haven’t been fantasizing non-stop about them doing it again?_

“I blame you for that.”

_Blame me all you want, but it wasn’t me who was moaning like a drunken whore loud enough for the people on the first floor of this building to hear you._

Quatre threw his hands up in frustration. “Christ, do you ever shut up?”

_I’ve been quiet since the day you were born, kiddo. I think I’ve earned my right to speak. And you know I speak the truth._

He shook his head as he finished buttoning up his shirt. It was just long enough to cover his unmentionables, but kept his legs bare. “Yeah, well. There’s this nifty thing called a ‘filter’. You know, just because you can say it doesn’t always mean you should. It’s like I have a pervert dwelling inside my head.”

_I’m supposed to be a pervert. Since when were you such a prude?_

“Uh, excuse you, but I am far from a prude. Look at me! I’m not wearing any pants, or underwear. I just spent the last hour and a half getting ready to have sex with my four best friends. If that’s your definition of ‘prude’, then maybe you need to brush up on your dictionary knowledge.”

_I would suggest wearing something else if you like that shirt. There’s a high probability that it’ll be nothing but a few tattered scraps of expensive fabric by the time your Alphas are done with it._

He glanced down at himself, remembering the shredded remains of the t-shirt he’d been wearing a week ago. “I’ll just take it off before they can ruin it.”

_Then you’d better take it off before you open the door._

“I’m pretty sure we’ll at least be able to greet each other before getting down to business, ye of little faith.”

_Yeah, you keep telling yourself that._

 

*******

 

He still had thirty minutes to spare as he finished setting up the buffet-style brunch and lit the warming candles that were placed beneath each of the stainless steel chafers. He’d debated back and forth about whether to take them out to eat once they got the drive for sex behind them, but opted to order from a catering service instead. It would be less formal and more comfortable for all of them and this way, there was no risk of other people eavesdropping on their conversation.

During the last few days, he’d been occupying his time decorating the apartment for Christmas. It wasn’t something he typically did, but he was too restless to be idle. He had gone straight to the nearest home improvement store after work on Friday and the festive array of trees, garland, and twinkle lights were a welcome distraction from what lay ahead.

_Does the word ‘overkill’ mean anything to you?_

Quatre glanced up at the miniature train set as it choo-choo’d its way around the track he’d installed on top of his kitchen cupboards. “Okay, maybe I went a little overboard, but -”

_It looks like Santa Claus barfed all over the place. I’m surprised you didn’t get the life-sized manger scene, too._

“It wouldn’t have fit in here,” he mused, absently wondering if it was possible by rearranging some of his furniture. “Never mind. I like how it turned out. Very festive and pretty, don’t you think?”

_If you say so. I don’t know why humans have to make such a big deal out of ancient folklore. Retail stores just exploit it for profit anyway. You’re not even a Christian, much less pagan so why do you even care?_

“Because it’s fun, okay? Don’t be a party pooper,” he scolded, scooping a spoonful of hash browns with onion and pepper out of one of the chafers. “Oh, those are tasty. It’s hard to find decent hash browns, much less good ones.”

_Aren’t you supposed to be waiting for your Alphas?_

“You’re the one who told me I was eating for five now.”

_I know and you already scarfed down three danishes this morning._

Quatre tapped the spoon against his mouth. “Do you think they’d still want me if I got fat?”

_I’ve told you before that appearance is generally not important, at least in your case. You’re already beautiful, but do you really think getting fat is going to be beneficial to any of you?_

“Awww, you think I’m beautiful,” he drawled in a smug singsong tone.

_Oh, stop it. You know you are. It’s not like you have to put a lot of work into your appearance to attract them._

“Yeah, I guess that’s your job.”

_For an empath, you really are dense, you know that?_

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

_They were already attracted to you before I became active, you idiot._

“How do you know that? I mean, Trowa I would agree. Even Duo maybe, but not Heero and Wufei. They were - are - were straight.”

_Like I said, dense. Hate to break it to you, kiddo, but none of you are straight. None of you have ever been straight. While Duo, Heero, and Wufei may be into women, they’re not only into women._

“Huh.” He sat down on one of the kitchen stools and rested his chin on his hand. “How did I not know this?”

_I don’t know, but it’s true. The attraction was already there. I just...tweaked it. It’s part of the reason I chose them for you, among other things. It helps that they’re attracted to each other as well._

Quatre barked out a laugh and dropped his head down onto the counter. “Jesus, what in the world? The Mad Five would probably have a collective stroke if they knew about this. We weren’t even supposed to know about each other.”

_No, you weren’t. Good thing I was always twenty steps ahead of them, isn’t it?_

He lifted his head off the counter and balked. “ _You?_ You made that happen?”

_Duh._

“But you were dormant.”

_Do trees suddenly die during the winter? Do you think they’re not fully aware of what’s going on? That they’re not waiting for that first shift of sunlight that gives them the signal that spring is underway? I may have been dormant, Quatre, but I knew exactly what was happening. All the time and I was able to manipulate things in subtle ways. Just the slightest brush of the mind, a little nudge in the right direction._

“So you were directly-indirectly setting everything in motion, is that it? Manipulating us like pawns in a chess game?”

_It’s my purpose._

“Kind of a dick move if you ask me.”

_Yeah well, I didn’t ask you. How it seems is irrelevant. You’re my priority and it’s your best interests I’m looking out for._

“Yeah, I know,” he sighed and glanced down at his watch. “Oh, god! They’re going to be here any minute.” He jumped up off the stool and began to pace back and forth across the kitchen, flapping his hands around as he fussed. “Oh, shit. Oh, god. I’m starting to freak out. Why am I starting to freak out?”

_Relax! You know they’re not going to hurt you._

“I know _that!_ ”

_It’s just a mild case of last minute jitters. You got this._

“Do I? I don’t feel like I do. What if I don’t look good enough? What if they come in and see all the decorations and then leave because it looks too tacky in here? Maybe I should have skipped the giant animated Coca-Cola bear. It’s too much isn’t it? Do you think I look like a slut dressed like this? I mean, I look like I’m expecting sex. What if they’re like...turned off by it? Do you think this color makes me look washed out? Maybe I should put on something darker...”

It was times like these that the Omega wished it had a physical body, even if only a face and a palm to slap it with.

 

*******

 

Heero leaned over and glanced at the speedometer for the eighth time since they’d left the shuttle port. “You’re speeding again, Trowa.”

Trowa cursed under his breath and eased his foot off the pedal. “Sorry.”

“We get it, Barton,” Wufei told him. “But it’s not going to help any of us if you kill us before we get there. That’s why we didn’t let Maxwell here get behind the wheel.”

Duo pulled his face away from the window where he’d been sulking since being denied said access to the driver’s seat and flipped the black-haired man off. “Suck my dick, Chang.”

"No, thank you."

Duo leered at him. "Not even if I dip it in soy sauce?"

Wufei growled and launched himself across the seat, hands extended and reaching for the other man's neck. "I'm gonna kill you, you dumb American! You - you braided simpleton! I'm gonna mount your head on my wall and use your carcass as a rug. I'm gonna -"

Heero twisted his head around like an irate mother about to scold her squabbling children. “Hey! Enough fighting.”

Wufei glanced over at him and sneered. “You know, there's a reason we didn’t let _you_ get behind the wheel either, you homicidal maniac.”

“Wait a sec. _He's_ a homicidal maniac? You're the one trying to strangle me,” Duo wheezed. “At least Heero knows how to get somewhere. God, for a former Gundam pilot, you drive like an old lady on her way to bingo class.”

“It’s called obeying the law, dumb ass.”

“When did you become such a boy scout anyway?”

“When the war ended, but I wouldn’t expect any of you jarheads to understand that since you’re still living in Rambo-mode most of the time. The only one I can have a normal conversation with is Winner.”

Duo gave him a sideways look. “I’m not in Rambo-mode.”

“True,” Wufei conceded. “Doesn’t mean I can have a normal conversation with you, though.”

“I can have a normal conversation!”

“Maxwell, the last time I spoke to you, you pulled your pants down and asked me if your balls looked lopsided.”

Heero snorted and craned his neck to look at Wufei. “He asked me the same thing.”

Duo slouched back against the seat and folded his arms. “It was a legitimate question. Who else was I supposed to ask?”

“Would you guys keep it down, please,” Trowa barked, fingers tightening on the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. “I’m trying to focus and your bickering is grating on my nerves.”

Duo and Wufei sheepishly mumbled apologies and agreed to bury the hatchet for the time being. Heero placed a hand on Trowa’s arm and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Sorry. We’re just anxious. We didn’t realize how loud we were being.”

Trowa smiled at him before turning his attention back to the road. “I know. I didn’t mean to snap. It’s just my stomach is twisting up in knots and it’s getting worse the closer we get to Quat.”

“We’re all pretty high-strung right now, buddy,” Duo assured him. “Man, I’m hornier than a two-peckered billy goat, so don’t feel bad. I feel like I’m gonna bust a nut if I so much as look at my dick. I can’t stop thinking about what’s gonna happen and I’m scared to death to find out what Quat’s news is.”

Heero glanced over at Trowa and observed the tight set of his jaw. “You already know, don’t you?”

Trowa nodded stiffly. “Most of it. I think he told me all the important stuff.”

“Is it bad?” Duo asked, leaning forward a little to watch the green eyes reflected in the rearview mirror, dark and stormy with conflicting emotions.

Trowa worried his lip between his teeth as he tried to figure out the best way to answer that. Unfortunately, it was virtually impossible to describe this strange series of events in two words, or less. “It’s...complicated.”

“That’s a very vague response,” Wufei pointed out.

“I honestly can’t say it’s bad. Not for me, at least. I guess you’ll have to be the judge for yourselves.”

Heero’s expression was an odd mix of curiosity and acceptance, as if he’d already come to terms with the situation despite not even knowing what it was. But that was Heero for you. Like Trowa, he was highly adaptable to new and unfamiliar circumstances. “It’s permanent, isn’t it? This connection with Quatre, I mean. This need we all have for him. It’s not something that’s going to be solved after today.”

“No,” Trowa confirmed with a shake of his head. “It’s not going to be solved after today. This is permanent.”

“Quat mentioned that it had something to do with Newtypes,” Duo said. “He said I was a Newtype. Why would he say that?”

“Because you are,” Trowa told him, glancing back at him in the rearview mirror. “We all are.”

“How come I’m only just now hearing about this then? Besides, even if we are, what does it have to do with whatever this is?”

“It has everything to do with it, Duo. That’s why this happened.”

Duo flopped back against the seat and groaned, slapping a frustrated hand over his eyes. “I’m so confused. I hate being confused. It sucks donkey balls.”

“For once, I agree with you,” Wufei told him.

Trowa slowed the car to a stop and shifted the gear into ‘park’ before turning to look at the three of them. “Well boys, you’re about to find out really soon. We’re here.”

 

*******

 

Quatre sat on a stool with his cheek on the counter, watching the tap-tap-tap of his fingers as they drummed in time with Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree by Lee ‘Scratch’ Perry. “Maybe I should put on some Barry White instead,” he mused. “Seems kind of wrong to have an orgy while Christmas music is playing in the background.”

_You really think baby Jesus is going to give a damn what music you’re getting off to? I guarantee you there’s Jesus porn somewhere on the internet. I think you’re the least of his problems._

“Now there’s a visual I’d like to bleach out of my brain for the rest of eternity.”

_Indeed. By the way, our Alphas are here._

Quatre’s head shot up in alarm. “They are?”

_They’re inside the building. They’re on their way up._

Adrenaline zinged through his veins and propelled him off the stool. “Oh, god. Oh, shit. Okay, okay. I can do this, right?”

_Of course you can, you neurotic fool. Jeez, you fight in a war for two years without batting an eye, but when faced with sex, you turn into a pearl-clutching bride on her wedding night. Relax._

He took a deep breath in and then let it out slowly. It did help, if only a little. “Okay. Alright, I’m ready. I got this.”

_I got you, okay? We’re in this together._

He nodded, strangely comforted by that. “Thanks.”

_Why, Quatre! Am I detecting a hint of gratitude somewhere in here?_

“Don’t let it go to your head - or...my head. I don’t know...whatever.”

The Omega was kind enough to inform him once they’d reached his floor and he waited anxiously in front of the door, jumpy and increasingly aroused. He could sense their approach now that they were so close and wondered if they could feel him, too. Probably. He was pretty sure he was giving off enough pheromones to alert every Alpha within the district, if there were any.

His Eroyica gland had been triggered by their approach and it kicked into high gear, producing so much slick that it began to run down the backs of his legs. As his arousal spiked, the nervousness began to dissipate and in its place stood a fully-fledged Omega, chin held high and shoulders square. Confident in his ability to please his Alphas.

_Yes. There you go. This is how you were meant to be. Do not fear them, or yourself. Let your instincts guide you. Your body knows exactly what to do. Trust it...trust me._

When the doorbell rang, he stepped forward and reached for the chain lock with a surprisingly steady hand. He could feel the power on the other side of the door, each with their own distinct signatures and pulsing with virile dominance.

The energy seemed to seep through the reinforced steel, searching for his own which responded in kind. It curled like wisps of smoke, weaving between theirs by way of reassurance. It communicated in ways he was not verbally capable of at the moment, whispering in a soft, gentle promise. _I’m here. It’s alright now. I’m all yours. I’ll give you what you need. All you have to do is reach out and take it._

He felt the answering pulse, a surge of wicked lust that took his breath away and spurred his Eroyica gland to release another rush of fluid. He fumbled with the deadbolt, turned the handle, and swung the door open, his body instantly flaming with heat as he took in the flared nostrils and dilated pupils of his Alphas.

_Follow your instincts and they will follow theirs._

Quatre graced them with a demure curl of his lips and a flirtatious bat of his long eyelashes. “Hey, guys. Is there something I can help you with?”

He stepped back and watched as four grown men flailed, pushed, and kicked in their attempts to be the first through the door. After a short scuffle, Trowa pushed his way through and the other three stumbled in after him.

Quatre stared up at him, now a mere two feet away, and wondered why the hell they’d waited so long to get together. He toyed with the opened collar of his shirt, teasingly sliding his fingers up and down the edge. “See something you like?”

“Quat...you look -” Trowa’s hands lifted from his sides and reached out for him, needing to touch, to hold.

“Fuckable,” Duo supplied behind him.

Quatre quirked a brow, feeling uncannily like Sandra Dee post-transformation. “Tell me about it, stud. Better yet...can you show me?”

It was as if Trowa had only been holding back just long enough for a verbal confirmation. When it came, he sprung into action, closing the distance between them in one long-legged step. Quatre had barely enough time to pull his shirt over his head and toss it behind him before he was captured in the larger man’s arms and held tight against his chest.

Trowa buried his face in Quatre’s neck and mouthed at the soft flesh. “I can smell you,” he rasped, hand moving down the curve of the blond’s back to grab a pert ass cheek. Quatre’s breath hitched as Trowa inched his fingers inward, sliding through the slick that coated his skin. “I could smell you a mile away. I could smell this.”

Another body pressed up against his back, followed by the hard press of Heero’s still-clothed cock questing between his buttocks. “Did you save all this sweetness for us?”

He tipped his head back, seeking kisses that Heero was all too happy to give. “Mmm-hmm. Who else would it be for?”

“Better not be anyone,” Duo hissed into his ear and then dipped his head to suck the delicate lobe into his mouth. “No one else. Ever.”

Quatre yelped in surprise when Trowa grabbed a handful of hair at the back of his head and pulled until his neck arched painfully. He panted through clenched teeth as the man’s mouth descended on his vulnerable throat and licked a long line from his collarbone to his chin. “You’d better remember that. Remember who you belong to.”

His feet left the floor before he could even summon a response and the room tilted to a ninety degree angle as he was laid flat on his back on the carpet. He instinctively opened his legs, his consent given freely with such sweet surrender, and shivered when Trowa took the initiative and kissed his way down Quatre’s body until he reached his prize.

Quatre’s eyes rolled dizzily beneath fluttering lashes at the first brush of tongue against his opening. It was the catalyst that launched him spiraling headlong into his role and if he’d still harbored any doubts that any of this was real, it dissolved instantly upon that first moment of contact.

His back arched, his hips pushed forward, and his throat released a broken cry as the first taste of slick spurred Trowa’s Alpha instincts into full throttle. With a growl, he shoved the blond’s legs out of the way and pressed his face into the apex between his trembling thighs in a desperate attempt to get as much into his mouth as possible.

They’d already reached the point of no return, no longer capable of stopping under any circumstance. Quatre couldn’t have cared less if an all-out nuclear war was underway. He reached down and fisted his hands in Trowa’s hair, pushing down on his head to keep him in place. He was quickly approaching what would be the first of several orgasms and he tugged on the hair that was tangled between his fingers, communicating a clear warning. _‘Don’t you dare stop.’_

Another hand grabbed his chin and tilted his head to the right. He pried his eyelids open and stared blearily into Duo’s eyes, so close he could see that his indigo irises were nearly eclipsed by the inky black of his pupils. “That feel good, baby? We’ve been waitin’ all week for this. To get a taste of you again. Looks like you were just as eager, huh? You like that, don’t ya?”

A few tears spilled down over his temples and he nodded deliriously as Trowa’s mouth brought him closer and closer towards climax. _Just a few more seconds...just a little more. Oh god, I’m almost there. Almost th -_

Trowa abruptly pulled away just as he’d reached the pinnacle and he very nearly roared with fury. He floundered, his hands grasping empty air while he prepared to launch a litany of curses in every language he could think of.

_No! No no no, you bastards! You can’t leave me like - oh, fuck! Oh - oh my god…_

There had been some brief and silent form of communication between them that he wasn’t privy to, but to his relief, they did not leave him hanging. Wufei took Trowa’s place as the other man moved up to kneel behind Quatre’s tousled head. He caught a bony wrist in each of his hands and pinned them to the floor, using his upper body strength to keep them restrained.

Quatre’s body quaked with denied orgasm and he stared down at Wufei between the ‘V’ of his spread legs in a soundless plea, one that Wufei interpreted perfectly. With a sinister gleam in his black eyes, he lowered his head and made Quatre come so hard, he was convinced he’d lost a few IQ points.

 

*******

 

He couldn’t remember how, or when he’d ended up bent over the arm of his sofa with his face pressed into the cushions, but at the end of the day, did it really matter?

He’d already had four - or maybe it was five - orgasms wrung out of him and Trowa was busy making up for lost time with round two. Quatre’s body had gone boneless with exhaustion sometime after his third climax and though it didn’t seem possible that he could come again, the pistoning force of Trowa’s cock was beginning to prove his theory wrong.

His entire lower half, from the small of his back to the heels of his feet felt waterlogged from being drenched in slick for the past - how long had it been? At least an hour, if not two. After being fucked on the floor, both on his back and with his ass high in the air, against the wall courtesy of Heero and then Wufei, and now over the arm of his couch, it was probably smeared all over the room and he had no clue how he was going to clean it all up.

_Look at the bright side. If you hadn’t marked your territory all over this apartment yet, it’s no longer a problem now._

_Way to make me feel like a dog pissing on every fire hydrant it comes across,_ he griped.

_No, I think that would be your Alphas. I’m surprised you’re not all stiff like dried glue._

_You’re disgusting, you know - oh - you know th - at? Oh, fuck!_

”Oh, fuck,” he groaned into the cushions as another orgasm swept through his body. His eyes rolled dizzily and his hips twitched from the maddening stimulation...and still, Trowa kept fucking into him with no signs of slowing.

_I don’t - don’t know how much more I can t - ake. Oh, god...it’s too much._

_You’d better get that thought out of your head. There is no such thing as ‘too much’. You think this is too much? Wait until they’re rutting. This could go on for days during a rut._

_I’m just...I’m so tired. My body is spent._

_Then rest. There’s no rule that says you can’t rest, but this will not be over until they are satisfied. I’ll carry you through it. Just let yourself go and I’ll take up the slack. You’ve earned it._

Too exhausted to argue, his eyes drifted closed and he allowed the vigorous rocking motion to lull him into a drowsy, trance-like state. Not asleep, but suspended in that hazy realm where one is neither conscious, nor unconscious, like the transition of twilight that occurs between day and night.

Trusting the Omega to take over long enough for him to gather his bearings was not an easy thing to do. Odd considering it resided inside his mind, but it was still new and unfamiliar despite the fact that he was gradually becoming more comfortable with its presence.

Despite the fact that it had always been there.

Putting his trust in Trowa, Heero, Duo, and Wufei however, was a no-brainer. He trusted them more than he did himself. Putting his body, his life in their hands required no hesitation, no second guessing. If the Omega did anything untoward, they would never stand for it whether they were under their Alphas’ influence, or not.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed since he’d drifted off, but he snapped to awareness once again when Trowa’s weight pressed him hard against the couch. He felt the man empty himself with a final push of his hips and a deep, rumbling groan that vibrated against his ear. “I love you so much, Quat. I always have.”

Elated to finally hear the words he’d been waiting so long for, he preened and affectionately pressed his head back against Trowa’s. _See? That wasn’t so hard, now was it?_

 

*******

 

The afterglow was so much better than last time, mainly because no one put him to sleep and he hadn’t passed out from exhaustion. He smiled dreamily, warm and sated within the cocoon of Trowa’s arms and gently combed his fingers through Heero’s disheveled hair which lay haphazardly over his thigh.

On the floor in front of the television, Duo and Wufei were sprawled like two kindergartners during nap time. The easy silence of the room was broken only by the Christmas music playing softly through the speakers and an occasional snore from Duo.

Quatre turned his head and grinned at Trowa over his shoulder. “At least it wasn’t me who conked out this time.”

Trowa inched forward and pressed a kiss against his mouth. “Are you alright?”

“Oh, I’m fine. Great, actually. I feel surprisingly refreshed and relaxed.”

“You know, I meant what I said, don’t you? Back when...I mean, it wasn’t just the heat of the moment, or anything. I really do love you.”

“I know you do, you big lug,” Quatre teased, kissing the tip of his nose. “I’ve always known.”

“I’m sorry I waited so long to say it.”

“Better late than never,” he chirped, admiring the beauty of Trowa’s face. The high cheekbones, the slightly curved slope of his nose, and the sharp lines of his jaw worked together to construct a face that could only have been carved by Michelangelo’s loving hands. “You’re so beautiful. And you have festive eyes, you know that?”

Trowa’s brows knitted together in confusion. “I have what now?”

“Festive eyes. You know, that deep green like a Balsam Fir, or - or maybe a Blue Spruce. And when the lights hit them just right, they sparkle like Christmas trees.”

“Well then, I guess I’m glad I could contribute to your decorative theme here,” Trowa said with a grin. “Speaking of which, do you have some new obsession with Christmas I don’t know about?”

Quatre groaned and buried his face in the cushion. “This is not my proudest moment, okay? I needed a distraction.”

He could feel Trowa laughing against his back before he said, “Hey, I’m not judging. That giant bear is a nice touch.”

He blushed even harder. “That was an impulse buy. I’ve always loved the Coca-Cola bear and when I saw it, I knew I had to have it. I didn’t even question it until I got it home.”

Trowa chuckled and nuzzled the back of his head. “You’re adorable and you did a beautiful job decorating...even if it does look like the North Pole in here.”

“I don’t know about the North Pole. I think I might have made Santa green with envy.”

“At least it goes with your color scheme.”

On the floor a few feet away, Duo let out a loud snore and then coughed a little, prompting Wufei who was curled on his side to roll over and deliver a swift kick to the other man’s back. Duo’s head shot up and he smacked his lips as he glanced around, looking rumpled and lost. His gaze landed on the Coca-Cola bear and he squinted in confusion. “Which circle of Hell is this?”

“The ninth,” Quatre retorted dryly. “Welcome to eternal damnation. My name is Satan Clause and I’ll be your host and tour guide. Ho ho ho.”

Trowa snickered into his shoulder as Duo turned bleary eyes on him. “Do I smell food?”

“I’m surprised it took you this long to notice. It’s in the kitchen.”

“Yeah, sorry. I was a little distracted by a different smell, if you know what I’m sayin’.”

Quatre glanced at Trowa over his shoulder, hoping he wouldn’t notice the high flush of his cheeks. “Are you hungry?”

“Actually, yes. Didn’t realize it until now. I didn’t eat last night, or this morning because I was a nervous wreck.”

“I have brunch all set up. I decided we would just eat here since it’s more casual and private, you know? Is that alright?”

“It’s perfect,” Trowa whispered, leaning down to kiss him. “And you’re pretty when you blush.”

“Jesus, Quat,” Duo bellowed from the kitchen. “You got enough food in here to feed an army!” There was a brief pause and then, “Holy shit, you got a train in here, too?!”

“I’d better get in there before he breaks something,” Quatre mumbled, pushing himself upright and lightly tapping Heero’s cheek. “Heero, wake up. You want some food?” When there was no response, he tried again. “You want some coffee?”

“Mmph...don’t tease me, Quatre.”

“Now why would I tease you about that? I promise you there is a full pot of fresh coffee waiting in the kitchen. I even used that special brew you love so much so you’d better go get some before Duo drinks it all.”

In a flash, Heero was wide awake and heading for the kitchen with a clipped, “If he does, he’s dead meat.”

Quatre admired the glorious view of his bare ass before it disappeared around the corner and then wiped the drool from his thigh. “That was easy enough.”

Trowa laughed as he climbed off the sofa. “You just have to speak his language.” He glanced over at the still-sleeping Wufei and then back at Quatre. “You go ahead. I’ll get Fei up.”

“Thank you,” he said gratefully, stepping closer for a quick kiss. “You’re the best.”

“I know you are, but what am I?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyy lmao. *slinks off into the darkness*
> 
> Thanks for reading! Smash dat kudos button, leave a comment. These things give me life. <3


	14. Tapped Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Easter and Happy April Fools' Day, if you celebrate them. If not, then greetings and salutations! My deepest apologies for the long wait in updates. My life has been nothing less than a roller coaster through Hell lately, but things are beginning to look up a little hopefully. I've got a death grip on my muse so she can't escape. <.< >.>
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: Past child abuse and non-graphic violence. 
> 
> I hope I was able to make this worth the wait. Thanks for reading. ^^

Trowa swatted Duo’s hand away when he held another crispy slice of bacon beneath his nose. He’d already packed away enough food to make a hibernating bear jealous. “Quit it, Duo. I told you I don’t want anymore.”

“Whatta buncha lightweights,” Duo snorted, stuffing the bacon into his own mouth instead.

Wufei’s face twisted in revulsion as he lifted his tea cup. “Are you trying to eat yourself into an early grave?”

“Did you not see the intense workout I just had out there? Gotta keep the ol’ fucking machine fueled up.”

“Wow,” Quatre muttered from his place at the counter. “In the room.”

“You should take that as the compliment it is,” Duo told him, scooping four heaping spoonfuls of sugar into his coffee.

Heero gave him a weird look. “How is that even a compliment?”

“Because,” Duo sputtered. “Blondie over there got me so turned on, I felt like a locomotive.”

“That’s...actually a pretty accurate description,” Quatre mused.

“See?”

“Because I feel like I’ve been hit by one, or...four.”

Duo winked at him over the rim of his mug. “That said, you look damned good for railroad pizza.”

Quatre eyed him for a minute and then cleared his throat. “Okay, moving on. We’ve covered the basics already, but there’s a lot of information to go over still.” He reached across the counter and pulled four orange folders out from behind a canister, passing them around before reclaiming his chair. “This is everything I could find along with the stuff that Iria gave me so I made copies for you to keep. Just don’t let anyone else see this. Get a safe, or something. I don’t know, but no one is allowed to know about this.”

Heero dark brows knitted together as he shuffled through the contents of his folder. “How did you get all this? I’ve tried every hacking program at my disposal and even modified some of my own and I still couldn’t gain access to anything useful.”

“Looks like Mr. Perfect Soldier isn’t so perfect after all,” Duo teased.

Quatre rested his hand on Heero’s arm and squeezed gently. “Relax, Heero. I didn’t upstage your hacking skills, okay? My sister gave me the access codes and passwords. I put them on the last page in your folders. It goes without saying that these are also -”

“Hush, hush,” Duo cut in. “Yeah, we get it.”

Wufei lifted a page out of his folder and held it up as he read from it. “Symptoms of prolonged denial of intercourse with your Omega include fatigue, irritability, aggression, restlessness, insomnia, headache, nausea, dizziness, lightheadedness, tremors, uncontrollable muscle spasms, vivid dreams, nocturnal emissions, and a persistent erection that may, or may not be painful. Masturbation typically does not relieve these symptoms.”

“Engaging in intercourse with your Omega is the most effective method to alleviate your symptoms and relief is usually immediate. If symptoms persist after intercourse and ejaculation, please contact your assigned Alpha specialist as soon as possible to avoid any long term damage.” Wufei dropped the page and gave Quatre an incredulous look. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Quatre threw his hands up helplessly. “I wish I was, but I’m not. I basically had the exact same reaction.”

“Alpha Exodus?” Duo asked, scanning the bottom of the same page. “What’s that?”

“It’s what Wufei just read. That’s the...I don’t know. Unofficial term? It’s withdrawal, like what you experienced in the days that followed our first encounter on my birthday.”

“I can’t believe there are actually pamphlets for this,” Trowa said, fanning out a stack of them in his hands as if they were poker cards. “Look at these titles.  _‘Me, Myself, and My Omega,’ ‘What To Expect When You’re An Alpha,’_ and _‘Alphas Are From Mars, Omegas Are From Venus_.’”

Quatre’s cheeks flushed pink as he fiddled with his napkin. “Yes, well. Some of those are a little outdated.”

“A little?” Duo snorted, holding up a pamphlet. “Check out the mutton chops on this dude.”

“The information in them is still relevant so -”

“Is there an after school special, too?”

“No,” Quatre snapped impatiently. “Look, I get that some of this stuff is cheesy, okay? But it’s not like I made those things and it’s not like I invented this whole Alpha/Omega thing either.”

“So you didn’t know anything about this when we - last week?” Heero asked, eyeing the blond closely.

“I swear to you, I knew nothing about this. Apparently my family has been keeping this secret from me since the day I was born. The only reason my sister came clean was because I’d - you had activated the Omega.”

“You’d think if your family was so adamant about not letting that happen, they would have protected the goods behind a chastity belt, or something before we got a chance to deflower you,” Duo mused.

Quatre cocked a brow at him. “Duo, I hate to burst your bubble, but my cherry was popped four years ago.”

He realized his mistake too little too late and shifted awkwardly when four pairs of eyes bore into him with the intensity of a gamma ray. Three were decidedly homicidal and the fourth was a combination of homicidal and crestfallen. _Aw, hell. You and your big mouth, Quatre. Let’s see you try to worm your way out of this one._

Trowa spoke first and Quatre instantly recognized the tone. That deceitfully quiet, but more loaded than a souped up bear trap, _‘Spill the beans and maybe I won’t wear your guts as a t-shirt’_ tone. “Was it now? And who was given that honor?”

“It’s not anyone you guys know, okay? He’s just -”

“Who?” Trowa insisted, leaning forward across the table.

“He’s the son of one of my father’s long time golfing buddies. After the Eve Wars, I went back home to begin making arrangements for reconstruction. A few days later, he spotted me at a coffee shop and we went to lunch to catch up, is that alright?”

Apparently not if the round of expectant glares were anything to go by. “We hadn’t seen each other since before the first war, but we were really close back then so we hit it off right away. He asked me if I wanted to go back to his place to see the new project he was working on -”

“And you fell for that?”

He scowled, but chose not to dignify Trowa’s patronizing inquiry with a response. “I accepted the invitation. We flirted some, he kissed me, then one thing led to another, and that was that.”

“That was that? That’s all you’re going to say?”

Quatre huffed and folded his arms across his chest. Fine. If they wanted him to spell it out for them, who was he to disappoint? “We fucked, is that what you want to hear? We fucked like animals. We played Tarzan and Jane and had wild monkey sex while hanging from the ceiling rafters. Happy now?”

Okay, so maybe he was exaggerating a little, but god was it worth it just to see the stupefied expressions on their faces. “Anyway, it’s not like any of you have a legitimate reason to be upset about this. Especially since I know damn well none of you were virgins when you decided to bone me on my birthday. So what makes me different? Why am I expected to stay virginal for the four of you whom, up until a week ago, showed no romantic interest in me whatsoever?”

He deeply resented the fact that he was expected to stay perched high on this ridiculous pedestal, living up to standards that were wholly unreasonable even for a saint. He resented it, but was not surprised by it. He had known since the very beginning that he’d been regarded as the “innocent” one. Pure as the driven snow. Unsullied by the filth of human corruption in the eyes of his co-pilots as well as all five of their mentors.

What a crock of shit.

Though bitter as he might be, he understood the reason behind it. His friends were oblivious, but not malicious in their intentions. Their newly awakened Alphas were doing a number on their psyches. Influencing their emotions and dictating their actions according to the ever-changing environment. They were constantly monitoring their surroundings, calculating every possible threat and their subsequent response to ensure they never lost the upper hand.

In every sense of the word, they were doing exactly what they were meant to do and it made no difference how bent out of shape he was about it.

Still, he couldn’t stop the rush of shame when saw how crushed Trowa looked and he wanted to kick the other man for invoking his guilt when he’d done absolutely nothing wrong. “Trowa...I’m sorry. I didn’t -”

“No, no. No, you’re right. I was too afraid to show you how I felt about you and I can’t fault you for trying to build a life - or a...relationship - of your own. It’s selfish to demand your virtue as if it’s something that belongs to us. I know that. I know it’s true, but -”

“But that voice in your head tells you otherwise,” Wufei finished, staring intently into his teacup. “It tells you everything you know in your heart is right is wrong. It twists everything you’ve ever believed and flips it upside down. It tells you it doesn’t care about your principals, or -”

“It tells me I shouldn’t care about my principals,” Heero cut in. “It has only one objective.” He glanced around the table before nodding his head towards Quatre. “Him. He’s the only thing it wants and it’s getting harder and harder to figure out where it ends and I begin. The stronger it gets, the more it seems like it’s coming from me. That these are my thoughts and feelings and they always have been.”

“Because they are,” Quatre told him in a somber voice. “The Alpha is you. You are one in the same. I’ll admit I’ve had trouble accepting the Omega as anything but a separate entity. A parasite, but...it’s not. It’s been inside me since the moment of my conception. It was passed down from my mother. It’s everywhere, every part of me. It’s every cell in my body, every neurotransmitter in my brain, every beat of my heart, the blood in my veins. It’s part of my genetic structure. I can’t kill it without killing myself in the process. If it dies, I die with it.”

“Does it talk to you?” Duo asked.

“Yes. Though I still don’t know if it’s just me talking to myself. The more I think about it, I’m convinced it is and it only seems like it’s separate because maybe I want it to be. The Omega isn’t _in_ me. The Omega _is_ me. I didn’t want to believe I was responsible for all this, but I am and I’m - I’m so sorry, you guys. I’m so sorry I did this to you.”

“Quat, this is no more your fault than it is ours,” Trowa assured him. “You had no knowledge of this, much less any control over it. And anyway, we seduced you, remember? If anything, the blame should be on us since we initiated it.”

“Quatre, none of us blame you for this,” Heero insisted. “There is no resentment towards you because it’s not your fault, okay?”

Quatre ducked his head, but he wasn’t quick enough to hide the quiver of his lip. “I was so afraid you would all hate me for this. I’ve been hating myself all week. I was convinced you would tell me you never wanted to see me again and I was so scared of losing all of you. You’re the best friends I’ve ever had.”

Heero wrapped his arm around the blond’s shoulders and tugged him closer. Quatre allowed himself to be pulled into the embrace and tucked his head beneath the other man’s chin, seeking the comfort he hadn’t been expecting, but was so relieved was being offered. He didn’t cry like he thought he would. He merely released a shaky breath and let the tension in his body finally melt away like chocolate over a candle flame.

He wasn’t surprised when he felt the warm press of a chest against his back. He’d sensed Trowa’s approach and welcomed the feeling of safety and security, sagging between the two men as the world had been lifted from his shoulders.

“You’re not going to lose us, Quat. Ever,” Trowa whispered against the nape of his neck. “I for one am not going anywhere.”

“We’re all in this together,” Heero murmured into his hair. “Okay? Because that’s how it’s supposed to be. We’ve gotten through situations far worse than this because we stuck together and worked as a team.”

“Yeah, Q. There’s no ‘I’ in ‘team’, but there is an ‘I’ in - ah, never mind. I mean, this is a cakewalk compared to the war. _And_ we get to rock the casbah whenever we want. It’s a win-win.”

Quatre lifted his head to smile at Duo. “You suck at pep talks, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

“I suck at other things, too, but I don’t hear you complaining.”

“Oh, for god’s sake,” he muttered, pressing his heated face against Heero’s chest. A little over an hour ago, he’d been as shameless as a crack whore desperate to make a few bucks. Now that the haze of desire was satiated - however briefly - he had reverted back to his default state of disciplined modesty. One that was built on a solid foundation of rigid upbringing and indoctrination, enforced by a totalitarian father whose punishments were delivered with brute strength, merciless precision, and a conscience clear of remorse.

There were times he could still feel the excruciating agony of his grandfather’s antique cane repeatedly striking his back after he’d been caught touching himself for reasons that had nothing to do with hygiene. He’d been beaten black and blue, until the pain far surpassed his ability to remain conscious. It took nearly two months for the bruises to fade, but his lesson was learned. He didn’t dare touch himself again until after his father had disowned him, when there was nothing less than an entire planet between them.

The bruises had long since healed, but his mind remembered the screaming torment of his nerves as they were battered beneath the force of a grown man in a fit of self-righteous rage. Sometimes the memory manifested into physical pain, as if a perpetually unforgiving Zayeed had returned from the hereafter to make him atone for his sins all over again.

As a child, Quatre had no reason to believe the things his father did weren’t a normal part of parenting. When he left to join the war, he thought perhaps his father’s strictness was his way of ensuring that none of his thirty children did anything to damage his professional reputation. And to be frank, having thirty kids did greatly increase the odds of at least one of them doing something extremely stupid. Quatre couldn’t exactly fault him for trying to cover his ass.

His most recent suspicion however, had been confirmed by Iria herself. Zayeed’s actions were motivated by a deep-seated fear that his only son, his heir, would grow to be little more than a servant to one - or multiple - Alphas. Among the inner circles of society's most elite, Omegas were still largely regarded as chattel. Highly desirable chattel, but chattel nonetheless and that didn’t bode well for a man who had a virtual empire under his thumb. If word about Quatre’s genetic anomaly got out, the Winner family would have faced public shame, ridicule, and ostracization.

The harshness of his father’s methods were disturbingly similar to religious fundamentalism, intended to force Quatre into a life of voluntary celibacy by training his mind to develop a revulsion for sex. To instill the idea that sex was something only the godless engaged in. If he succeeded in convincing his son that he was above such heathenism, the odds of Quatre being exposed as an Omega were slim to none.

From the moment of conception, Quatre had been cursed. Branded as an abomination. A painful reminder that defective creatures such as himself were best left dead, or at least hidden from society like a dirty secret.

It was a hard pill to swallow knowing his father had wanted him aborted when he’d learned of Quatrine’s unexpected pregnancy. Quatre was alive today only because of his mother’s stubborn refusal to terminate and Zayeed’s concurrence of her decision because he’d loved her that much. It was his father’s love for his mother and his mother’s love for him, so powerful that she’d willingly sacrificed her life for the sake of her child’s on that somber night twenty one years ago when the rest of humanity was preparing for the joyful festivities in the days ahead.

“Quat? You alright, babe?”

The gentle query jolted him back to the present. He felt dazed and a little groggy as he often did after a particularly deep sleep. He rubbed his hands over his face and summoned a smile for Trowa. “Yeah. Sorry, I guess I was spacing out. I was thinking about my parents.”

Duo paused in his task of building a miniature fort with the leftover bacon and raised a brow at the blond. “I thought you were artificially created.”

Quatre shook his head. “That’s what I was told my whole life growing up. My sisters are, but as it turns out, I’m not. Unfortunately, my mother died giving birth to me. My father decided never to tell me that I was born naturally.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Because she was an Omega, too. I inherited it from her, but my father was adamant about making sure mine was never activated. Obviously he underestimated its - my - power.”

Wufei scooted his chair closer, intrigued. “Meaning what?”

“Meaning, it already knew who its Alphas were. Even though it was dormant, it was somehow able to...I don’t know. Attract you, I suppose. Without any of us being consciously aware of it.”

“So you’re saying that’s what brought us all together?” Heero asked.

“Well, if you remember, we were never even supposed to know about each other, much less ever meet face to face. I felt connected to all of you before I knew who you were and don’t you find it a little odd that four guys who’d never been able to work well with others in the past suddenly became team players without even thinking twice about it? The bond was already being formed back then without our knowledge. As time went on, the urgency to consummate it got stronger and stronger, at least for me.”

Wufei rested his chin on his fist as he mulled the information over. “I think it’s safe to say the feeling was mutual considering we just showed up on your doorstep with every intention of having sex with you, though -” he paused, face twisting in confusion “- wait. Now that I think about it, I don’t remember even coming up with that idea. I don’t remember any of you mentioning it either. The only thing I do remember is the four of us sitting outside that cafe last week acting like what we were about to do was previously agreed upon when it wasn’t.”

“To be fair, we did previously agree on visiting Quatre that day,” Trowa pointed out. “Right? I am remembering that correctly, aren’t I?”

Wufei looked up at him and nodded. “Visiting, yeah. I figured we were just going to hang out, maybe drag Winner to a few bars, get him wasted, maybe laid, and then go home.”

“Well, you did get me laid,” Quatre conceded with a smile. “I’ll give you that.”

“And wasted,” Duo added. “Just not in the typical ‘get-your-buddy-drunk’ way.”

“So, we’re all agreeing here that none of us said, or indicated anything about sex prior to showing up here last week,” Heero said, attempting to get a confirmation for the record. “Correct?”

“Yeah, I think that’s what we’re all copping to. I never said it. Neither did Tro, or Fei. You didn’t say it and since we’re being thorough, I’ll also add that Q didn’t either.”

“Oh, we all said it,” Quatre told them, dragging his fingers through his hair. “Just not out loud. Or consciously.” He dropped his elbows back down to the table and rested his forehead on the palm of his hand. “I remember getting so upset at first because I thought you guys were pranking me, but I can’t remember much of what happened after that. Just...fragments of things, some of which I’m not even sure were real.”

“It’s really hazy for me, too,” Trowa agreed. “I do remember the second round though. Very clearly.”

Duo tipped his chair back and rubbed his face. “Ah fuck, same,” he confessed, peering at Heero and then Wufei with bleary eyes. “What about you two? Yay, or nay?”

Neither man responded verbally, but Quatre could see the answer written across their faces. He nodded and got up to replenish his coffee, both because he needed to and because this was awkward as all get-out. “Iria said that was common. The activation process uses up a ton of brain capacity. It’s just like running a super powerful computer program. It consumes vast amounts of energy and even diverts what’s normally used to keep the other processes going. Once it’s completed the process, it...basically just runs in the background, popping up to do this, or that when necessary.”

“So we inherit this from our parents, right?”

“Omegas do and it’s typically only one parent. The geneticists on my sister’s team still aren’t sure where the Alpha comes from. You don’t seem to have a traceable gene they can locate to study.” Quatre snorted as he picked up a spoon to stir some cream into his coffee. “They still can’t seem to crack the Omega gene anyway. They’re getting bits and pieces of information from it, but not enough to paint a picture yet.”

“Maybe it’s spontaneous,” Trowa mused. “Depending on circumstance. From what I know so far, Alphas evolved as reactionary protectors.”

“Uh, could you repeat that, Tro? Preferably using layman’s terms this time.”

“Think about when a virus, or bacteria mutates in order to survive environments that are hostile to them. It’s impossible to kill every last organism. There will always be stragglers that manage to stay alive. So...what happens to those survivors?”

“They develop immunity. They become stronger, more difficult to destroy,” Wufei answered.

Trowa pointed a triumphant finger at him. “Bingo! In that regard, we’re all the same. We’re all Newtypes and as far as we’re aware, Newtypes have virtually the same origins. Once we were deemed a threat, which in turn became a threat to us, we evolved into a “system” to increase our chances of survival. We mutated.”

“Wouldn’t that mean we also have a gene?” Wufei asked.

“I would think so. I mean, I’m not an expert on any of this so I have no idea, but I would think there is a gene. They just haven’t found it yet.”

“Or maybe they found it, but they haven’t figured out what it is,” Heero suggested.

“Man, there is not enough coffee in the world to process this mind trip,” Duo groaned. He grabbed his mug and pushed away from the table. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to work with what I got. S’cuse me, Q. I’m gonna need some more‘a that there thinkin’ sauce.”

His cup was only half-full when he set the pot down with a loud clunk and spun around. “Wait. What you just described sounds an awful lot like some hierarchical insect colony royalty shit. Queens, workers, soldiers, etcetera. Am I hearing you correctly?”

“I’m saying I think it’s a similar system,” Trowa told him. “Only there’s no real “queen” calling the shots. It seems more like the queen’s role is split among us.”

“Explain.”

“Well, Quat’s essentially the central character in all this. If I’m on the right track, we’re the reactionary component in the equation. The mutation, so to speak, but we’re far from being mindless drones. We have just as much control as Quatre -” he paused as he remembered that first night, nudging the blond to sleep with a brush of his mind. He’d been trying to delude himself into thinking that - and what happened after - was nothing but a disjointed remnant of a too vivid nightmare. He wasn’t fooling anyone, much less himself. “If not, more so.”

He caught Quatre’s eye across the room, but was surprised to see no sign of anger, or resentment. “I know what you’re thinking about,” the blond told him. “And I have a theory on that myself.”

Trowa nodded, giving him the floor. He owed him that much. Quatre rounded the counter, but didn’t sit down at the table again. Instead, he perched on one of the barstools and tucked a leg beneath him. “I think all of you possess the power to override any bad decisions I make. Your ability to control what I do is a protective measure in case I make a stupid decision that could get me injured, or killed.”

There was more. The rest of them could feel it hanging in the air like a cloud heavy with rain. Whatever it was, it was troubling Quatre and had been for some time. Heero glanced at Trowa, observing the comforting hand resting on the blond’s ankle and the expression of guileless devotion on his face. He already knew and apparently had been trying to reassure Quatre that whatever it was....whatever it was, it was going to be okay.

“You can tell us, Quatre,” he prodded, careful to keep his tone soft and open. If the blond caught even a hint of austerity, he might be discouraged from sharing the information. “We won’t get angry, okay?”

Quatre glanced at Trowa who nodded once and Heero read the exchange loud and clear. The, _‘Can I trust him?’_ Followed by the, _‘Yes, you can trust him. It’s okay.’_ He set his coffee cup on the counter and carded his fingers through his hair. “Alright so...it’s not just a protective measure for my benefit. It’s - it’s also self-preservation. _Your_ self preservation.”

_Ah, here we go. Nothing is ever so simple, is it?_

“Meaning?”

“Meaning...if something happens to me - if I die, you probably wouldn’t survive much longer after that.” Quatre's voice cracked a little at the end, but he did a pretty remarkable job of getting himself back under control. “I’ve been talking to Iria about ways to avoid that if I do happen to pass away first. She is searching for ways to break at least that part of this bond so that the four of you can go on to live full, happy lives after I’m gone. It’s not right that any of you should die just because I do.”

Trowa, bless his heart, was almost hilariously predictable. “I wouldn’t want to live in a world without you anyway, Quat.”

Wufei rubbed his eyes irritably and then slapped his hand on the table. “Jesus Christ, Barton. Can you save the melodramatic Romeo and Juliet decrees for your broadway audition and focus on reality here? You do understand the gravity of what he just said, don’t you? If he dies, _we_ die. That’s it. That’s all she wrote. It’s curtains for all of us. You’re seriously okay with that?”

“Well, that explains why such drastic measures have been taken to prevent such a thing from happening in the first place, doesn’t it?”

Wufei stared at Duo as if he’d just sprouted a set of horns. “I find it hard to believe that you, of all people, are taking this so well.”

Duo shrugged as he nibbled on the tip of a strawberry. “All I’m saying is that evolution seems to have already taken this unfortunate plot twist into consideration and found a solution.”

“You call this a solution?!”

“Fei -”

“No, Trowa,” Quatre cut in, squeezing the other man’s hand. “It’s alright. He has every right to be upset about this.”

“ _Upset?!_ Ha! If that isn’t the understatement of the year.”

“Fei,” Trowa said again, though in a more placating tone. “No one is disputing your right to be angry, but going ballistic isn’t going to solve anything so let’s try to let cooler heads prevail, okay?”

Wufei let out a bitter laugh and pushed away from the table. “That’s rich coming from you,” he retorted, taking his cup over to the stove where he’d left the tea kettle.

Trowa’s nerves rankled despite his best efforts not to let Wufei push his buttons. “The hell is that supposed to mean?”

Wufei spun from his place at the stove and waved his arms at the blond who now looked like he wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole. “You’re so eager to follow Winner over the edge of the cliff, you practically have one foot in the grave already! Tell me, loverboy. Why should I listen to your dick?”

Trowa folded his arms across his chest and didn’t miss a beat. “You’re right. You were doing a swell job of listening to your own dick an hour ago.”

“Can you blame me? It sure made Winner over there sing like a canary.”

“Oh, shit,” Duo muttered, wisely scooting his chair back to get as far away from the inevitable war path as possible.

Trowa’s expression darkened and his aura shifted from mildly vexed to something far more menacing. There was a strange ripple in the air, followed by a few cracks of static electricity. It was intangible, almost as if some omnipotent creature was plucking the very fabric of space and time. Strumming their very existence like strings on an instrument to a concerto only it could hear.

That malevolent presence returned. The one he’d gotten a terrifying glimpse of while alone with Quatre the night of his birthday. The one that told him to commit unspeakable acts...it came bubbling up from the darkest reaches of his mind and just like before, he had little to no control over it. “You’d do well to shut your mouth right now, Chang.”

“Trowa, don’t. Please, it’s not worth it.”

Unaware of the treacherously thin ice he was on, Wufei turned his ire on Quatre. “Shut the fuck up, Winner. This is between me and -”

The kitchen erupted into chaos before he could even finish his sentence. There was a split second of movement, an indistinguishable flurry of blurs and the deafening sound of cracking and shattering. It was over in moments, but in the aftermath, Wufei found himself flat on his back with the two halves of the now broken table on either side of him.

Disoriented, he wiped bits of congealed scrambled egg out of his eyes and blinked up at the feral visage of the man he’d been honored to call his friend for the past five years. Trowa stood over him, spitting curses and threats, but he was making no further attempts to attack. It took Wufei a full minute to notice that Heero’s arms were locked tightly around his shoulders, winding back behind the scruff of Trowa’s neck where his fingers locked together, effectively preventing him from advancing.

“Wufei! Are you alright? Here, let me help you.”

He grumbled and waved the fussing blond off. “I’m fine, Winner. Don’t give yourself hemorrhoids, or anything.” He sat up, gingerly at first. When there was no stabbing pain to indicate a serious injury, he got to his feet and brushed off the rest of the food that was clinging stubbornly to his clothes, skin, and hair with the kind of dignity that only someone like Wufei could pull off under such undignified circumstances. “Well, I hope you’re proud of yourself, Barton. You sure taught me a valuable lesson about the prevailing of cooler heads.”

“Shut up, Wufei,” Heero barked, huffing a little in his effort to restrain Trowa who’d managed to summon a second wind. “Trowa, I am two seconds from knocking your ass out. Calm _down_.”

Duo - who had pressed himself up against the wall during the epic smackdown - was too stunned to do anything but balk at Trowa with his mouth wide open. “Jesus, I’ve never seen him get like that before. The fuck just happened?”

Wufei snorted and stepped over the shattered remnants of Quatre’s decimated kitchen, crunching broken plates and cups beneath his feet. “It’s always the quiet ones.”

“Trowa.” Quatre, ever the peacemaker, tentatively approached the other man whose body was tensed like coiled springs within Heero’s powerful grip. “Hey. Can you see me? Do you recognize me?”

Giant black pupils contracted slightly, revealing a little more of the familiar green Quatre loved so much. “It’s me, Trowa. It’s Quatre. Can you hear me?”

The pupils shrunk a little more and then Trowa’s heavy breathing finally began to slow down and even out. Gaining confidence, he took another step and then another.

“Careful, Winner. I wouldn’t get any closer unless you have a rabies shot handy.”

Quatre ignored Wufei’s snide remark and continued his approach, not daring to break eye contact for fear they would lose him again. “There you go. You remember me, right? Everything is going to be okay. Just...take a deep breath for me, okay?”

He could see in Trowa’s eyes the exact moment clarity returned. The fog evaporated, harsh breaths smoothed out, and then it was just Trowa again. He was pale, haggard, and sweaty, but it was Trowa all the same.

Quatre rushed forward when the other man’s knees buckled, wrapping his arms around his torso to keep him from collapsing as he helped Heero get him to a chair. “Here. It’s okay. Just sit here and rest until you get your strength back. I’ll get you a glass of water.”

Heero stood behind Trowa with his hands braced on his shoulders to keep him steady while Quatre fetched the water. Trowa was shaky and drenched in sweat and Duo was quick to notice the slight green tinge to his face. “Uh, guys? I think he’s gonna -”

_“Huaaaaaaaaaaah!”_

“- Puke,” he finished, wincing a little. “Maybe we should take him to the hospital.”

“No!” Trowa wiped his mouth with a trembling hand and then leaned back against the chair, using Heero’s belly to support his head while he gathered his bearings. “No, I don’t need a hospital. I’ll be fine in a few minutes. I already feel a little better.”

Wufei stood at the stove and folded his arms across his chest. “You mind telling us what that was all about?”

“I don’t -” Trowa shook his head and rubbed a hand over his face. “I’m not sure. I just lost control.”

“Do you remember any of it?” Heero asked.

“I remember all of it. I knew I was losing control, but I couldn’t stop.” He glanced up at Wufei with wide, bloodshot eyes as he realized what he’d just done. “Oh, Christ. Wufei, I am so sorry! Are you alright? Did I hurt you? I didn’t mean to -”

“I’m fine, Barton, keep your tits on.”

Trowa groaned and buried his face in his hands. “I understand if you hate me now. I hate me, too.”

Wufei’s hostile demeanor finally began to dissipate, replaced by something resembling exasperated affection. “I did hold a sword to your throat once so consider us even now. Though I have to wonder what Winner’s kitchen table ever did to deserve such an untimely demise.”

“Oh god, Quat. Shit, I’m so sorry I broke your table!”

“It’s okay, Trowa.”

“I’ll take care of everything, I promise. You don’t have to lift a finger, okay?”

Quatre leaned over and took Trowa’s hand between his own. “I said it’s fine. We’ll get it taken care of. I’m just glad no one was hurt.”

“This time,” Heero pointed out. “What if it happens again? What if it’s me, Duo, or Wufei the next time instead of Trowa?”

Duo crossed the room and took the stool next to Quatre. “Are you saying this is Alpha related?”

“It has to be,” Trowa insisted. “That’s never happened to me before.”

“It is,” Quatre confirmed, sighing when was met with blank stares. “Okay, you have to look at this in its simplest form. From a biological perspective, evolution is not perfect. Far from it, at least by our human standards. It’s a system of trial and error. When something doesn’t pan out, evolution discards it and tries other things until something finally takes. Over the last billion years, it has left its footprint pretty much everywhere in nature and that footprint contains countless historical records of its successes and failures.”

“What’s your point, Winner?”

“My point is that the development of Newtypes is still in its infancy. We’re essentially still in the testing phase as evolution tries to figure out what’s going to enable our kind to thrive.”

“Which means there are a lot of kinks to work out,” Heero mused.

“Exactly. The kind of aggression Trowa just displayed is not uncommon among Alphas, particularly when there’s more than one in a single unit. But in most cases, these uncontrollable outbursts do start to subside as the Alpha becomes more familiar with himself. Or herself. It’s like when we first hit puberty, our hormones are all over the place. They fluctuate from one extreme to the other, but they tend to even themselves out as we get older and our bodies adjust to the changes.”

“You know, for a guy who’s just casually sipping coffee in the rubble of his own demolished kitchen, you’re taking all of this like a real champ, Q.”

In the silence that followed, the miniature train completed another lap around the cabinets with a soft _‘Woo woo’_ as if seconding Duo’s observation.

The blond’s lips quirked slightly, threatening to tip the room’s bleak mood into a different direction. When he laughed a minute later, it was as though the sun had reached down and parted the clouds, bathing the kitchen in warmth and light. Not even Heero and Wufei were immune to the sudden shift in atmosphere, laughing until their sides ached and tears rolled down their cheeks.

“Why am I laughing?” Wufei asked in between gasps for breath. “This is one of the most unfunny situations I’ve ever been in and I’ve been in some real doozies.”

“We’ve all been in some real doozies, Fei, believe you me,” Duo told him. “Sometimes there’s nothing left to do but laugh. And hey, look on the bright side. This pickle we’ve all gotten ourselves into could be a lot worse, right? I mean, at least we get to enjoy mind-blowing orgasms.”

“Yeah, about that.” Heero turned to Quatre whose cheeks were flushed pink with laughter. “I meant to ask earlier, but won’t the sex thing be a bit complicated considering how far apart we all live? How is that going to work?”

Quatre sobered and lifted his mug to his lips, buying himself an extra minute to figure out how to put this delicately. “Well, at some point in the future, we’re going to have to live together. Probably the near future...actually the most beneficial outcome is as soon as possible.”

_"What?!"_

So much for delicate.

“But I understand that’s a lot easier said than done,” he quickly added. “I’ve already spoken to Trowa about this in depth and he knows that the last thing I want to do is usurp the lives you’ve made for yourselves. This is not set in stone, okay? Best thing right now is to take it day by day, deal with this at your own pace, and do what you feel is right for you. There’s absolutely no pressure on my part. We’ll find ways to work around the hurdles.”

Duo popped a toothpick into his mouth and worried it between his teeth. “You mean like phone sex.”

“That’s obviously one option and we already know it works. If there are others, I’ll let you know about them as soon as I do.”

“Guess that will have to be enough. Beggars can’t be choosers, right?”

“Speak for yourself, Maxwell.”

“You really think I’d speak for you, Mr. Anal Retentive Stick In the Mud?”

“Knock it off, both of you,” Heero snapped. “Quatre doesn’t need us hosing his walls down with more Alpha machismo. I know the three of you are staying overnight, but I can’t. I have to leave tonight because I have an obligation early in the morning so I will not be around to play referee. If I find out any of you caused trouble, I’m going to crack your heads open like coconuts. Are you reading me loud and clear?”

“Yeah, we get it. Read you loud and clear.”

“Wonderful. Now, the three of you come with me. We’re going to find Quatre a new dining table and then we’re going to come back here, clean up this mess, and put the new table together. Chop chop. We’re burning daylight so let’s get moving.”

Amused, Quatre watched Heero escort them out of the apartment, the sounds of petulant griping fading as the door closed behind them. He glanced around his trashed kitchen, taking mental stock of what needed to be replaced when he felt a slight tug in his mind. He threw his hands up and sighed in exasperation. “Alright. Go ahead and gloat. I know you’re dying to.”

_I told you so._

“This is going to get...easier, right?”

_Define ‘easier’._

“Never mind. I’m just going to shower, pack away this food, and then take a nap before the caterers come back to get the servers.”

He made his way across the kitchen, carefully stepping around the obstacle course of broken dishes, spilled food, and scattered utensils. When he reached the doorway, he glanced over his shoulder one last time and shook his head.

“Alphas.”

 _‘Woo woo,'_ agreed the miniature train.


	15. Bar None

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I updated. A little late, but here it is. Got some steamy 1x4 for you, including pretty rough (but consensual) sex. Hope you like it.
> 
> Jesus, I'm tuckered out. If y'all need me, I'll be over here in a coma. *zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz*

Heero glanced up from the new table’s assembly instructions to see how the others were faring. There wasn’t much to it really. Just bolt the legs to the table top and flip the sucker over. The chairs required a little more work, but nothing too complicated.

“Duo, you’re putting the leg on backwards.”

“Huh?” The braided man stared at the table leg as if it just insulted his mother. “No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.” Heero turned the page of instructions around and pointed at the illustration of the table leg design. “The rounded edge goes on the outside.”

Duo looked up at him, then back at the leg, then peered over at Trowa and Wufei who’d both installed theirs properly. “Shit.”

“Just loosen the bolts and turn it around. It’s not a big deal.” He nudged his chin at Trowa and Wufei. “You two can help me get started on the chairs.”

There were eight total and the table came with two leaves so that Quatre could extend it when he had company. Only four chairs fit around the table on its smallest setting so they put the other four along with the leaves in the utility room which offset the kitchen.

The place was already clean by the time they returned. The leftover food had been transferred to Quatre’s color-coordinated Tupperware containers and were now stacked neatly in the refrigerator. The broken dishes and glasses had been swept and disposed of and the eating utensils were washed and placed into the drying rack. All that remained were the broken halves of his old table which the four of them carried downstairs and tossed into the dumpster behind the apartment building.

Once the construction was done, Heero was content to stand back and watch his three friends squabble over the finishing touches. Quatre was a stickler for presentation and when not in use, his dining table was laden with items that gave the appearance of everyday living, but were intentionally displayed with the eclectically chic nonchalance so often featured in trendy home and garden magazines.

The current point of contention was the color sequence of the lacquered bamboo place mats. Each one was different and since there were only four, it honestly didn’t matter where they went. It basically boiled down to Duo wanting the yellow one on the side facing the window and Wufei claiming the blue should go there which left Trowa reluctantly delegated to the role of arbiter.

The escalating altercation over whether a bouquet of daisies, or orchids would be better suited for the centerpiece was interrupted by the doorbell. Annoyed by the interference, Wufei propped his hands on his hips. “Who the fuck is that?”

“Probably the caterers. Quatre said they would come back for the serving dishes,” Heero said, heading for the door. “I’ll get it. Oh, and Duo? Wufei’s right. Orchids are in season this time of year so we’re going with that.”

He was expecting a considerable amount of sulking, but instead, Duo’s face twisted in confusion. “How in Shinigami’s left nutsack do either of you even know that?”

Heero left the kitchen without answering. He didn’t know where Wufei had obtained his knowledge of fauna and flora, or the extent of which he knew it. It was likely that he’d learned about it growing up while aspiring to be a scholar before the war had forced him to abandon his studies.

In Heero’s case, he’d taken to botany as a way to calm and center himself during times when the post traumatic stress of war and Doctor J’s training reared its ugly head. Because plants and animals were dependant on each other for survival, they helped him learn to trust again and since they required the tenderness of a nurturing hand to thrive, they were highly effective at softening his jagged edges.

Both were qualities he direly needed if he was going to make it as a civilian in the new world. He knew the reason why he was never permitted to communicate with people on a social level and the reality felt heavy like lead inside his chest. J never intended for Heero to survive the war. He’d been created by the maddest of men for only one purpose: to be a weapon of mass destruction.

His initial role was to carry out Operation: Meteor and ensure the successful destruction of the earth. Upon completion of that mission, he’d been given a non-negotiable order to self-terminate by following the jettisoned colony on a one-way trip towards their mutual annihilation.

The irony of fulfilling his duties under the stolen name of an assassinated colony leader who was known for his antipathy towards violence was not lost on him. J had tried to convince him that since the representative for the L1 colony cluster was dead, Heero was being chosen for that honor.

He knew it was a lie. The real Heero Yuy never would have supported Operation: Meteor if he’d known about it which he hadn’t. He wasn’t assassinated because he spoke on behalf of colony liberation. He was assassinated because he would have exposed Operation: Meteor for the atrocity it was and likely would have become a powerful adversary against its proponents, thus throwing a very large and very inconvenient wrench in their plans.

When whispers began to circulate due to an anonymous leak, J and the rest of the Mad Five realized that if the rumors gained more traction, they would be forever branded as the men responsible for the genocide of billions of innocent people. History would not have been kind them.

As a result, the original plan was scrapped in favor of the Gundams, but Heero’s predetermined fate did not change. He’d been prepared to self-detonate the moment the war was declared over, but he’d fucked up. He’d fucked up royally and on more than one occasion. At the time, he’d seen himself as a failure, a disappointment to his mentor. He had one job, the one he’d been trained all his life for, and he couldn’t even accomplish it.

Oddly enough, he owed his change of heart to a ragtag gang of misfits who had only one thing in common: the desire for peace. Three of those misfits were currently in the next room, fighting over flowers of all things. Another was fast asleep at the other end of the apartment. For a long time, he couldn’t figure out how they’d managed to break through fifteen years of relentless brainwashing and convince him that he was a human being worthy of life and happiness.

With their help and Relena’s, he learned that he was not obsolete. That he did not live in a world that wasn’t made for him, but rather he had a future in the world he helped create.

Which was all fine and dandy except for the fact that he’d barely started to get used to life as a civilian before the universe threw another wrench in his path. If anyone had told him five years ago that he would wind up in some cockamamie five-way relationship with his former co-pilots, he probably would have laughed like a lunatic and then shot them.

But despite the bizarre turn of events, he wasn’t finding it all that difficult to accept the cards he’d been dealt. In a metaphorical sense, it was like spending your entire life in the gallows and then being handed the keys to an ocean-side villa in the Bahamas. How could he possibly complain?

And if Quatre was right, then there was a biological reason for their current predicament. Adding this whole Alpha and Omega dynamic to the equation did explain how they were able to get through to him with relative ease, but Heero firmly believed there was more to it than that, even if he didn’t know what it was yet.

He greeted the caterers at the door and ushered them into the kitchen where it was thankfully still quiet. “Everything is lined up on the counter over there,” he told them, gesturing with his hand. “Is that all you need, or is there anything else that needs to be taken care of?”

“You’re all set, sir. We just came back for the equipment so we’ll be out of your hair as soon as we get it packed up and in the truck.”

Heero gave his friends a pointed look. “Guys, you wanna give them a hand?”

“Who died and made you dictator?” Duo grumbled.

“Please,” he amended, jerking his chin towards the living room where they could talk without the caterers listening in. “I only have a couple hours left and I want to spend a little time with Quatre before I go.” He was prepared to leave it at that, but decided for the sake of brevity that it couldn’t hurt to make sure they understood exactly what he was asking. “Alone.”

It came as no surprise when the air grew thick with tension. He forced himself to remain calm and open to the three separate, but distinct entities that pushed their way inside his head and sifted through the tesseract of electrical impulses jumping from one neurotransmitter to the next. They were searching, probing the part of his mind that controlled organization and decision making.

They wanted to know what his intentions were and he made no attempts to hide them. He knew jealousy was normal during the initial phase of the bond. Being dishonest would only slow down their progress and make it that much harder to move beyond this tumultuous stage.

“So you want us to take a hike while you have sex with Quatre, is that it?”

He met Trowa’s gaze, saw fire ignite in the sharp green eyes, and his body tensed when he remembered the incident earlier that morning. For everyone’s sake, he hoped this wouldn’t get physical. He didn’t exactly have limitless funds to keep replacing Quatre’s furniture. “Trowa, listen to me. I know this is difficult for you given your history with Quatre and how you feel about him, but this connection exists between all of us whether we like it or not.”

He watched Trowa teeter on the brink of violence, encouraged by the fact that he still wasn’t laid out on top of a broken sofa yet. If he kept a cool head, he’d probably able to talk him down.

“You know this. This is an adjustment for all of us, but we need him just as much as you do and we’re all going to have opportunities to...spend some time alone with him. You three get to stay until Wednesday morning. I have to leave in a couple of hours. We need to stop seeing each other as the enemy here. It doesn’t do Quatre, or any of us any good to constantly be at each other’s throats.”

He had to hand it to himself. He wasn’t always the best when it came to self-expression, but sometimes he did manage to pull it off. At least he’d had more decorum than Wufei as evident when Trowa let out a shaky breath and rubbed his hands over his face. Just like that, the situation was diffused.

“You’re right. I’m sorry, Heero. I don’t want a repeat of this morning. I need to do a better job controlling my temper...and my jealousy.”

“Don’t we all,” Duo agreed, stepping over to the massive bay window where Quatre had painstakingly arranged a multitude of dolls and critters whose motorized arms and heads rotated in slow-moving circles while they clutched lighted candles in their hands. He bent down to peer at the face of a cheerfully smiling penguin with rosy cheeks and a Santa hat on its head. “Might need to have a little talk with Q about his disturbing new obsession with animatronics, too. I don’t trust this bird. It looks way too happy,” he informed them, pointing a finger at the penguin. “And have you ever seen a penguin blush? I haven’t.”

“You’d better be nice to it,” Wufei warned, plopping down onto the couch. “You don’t want to wake up in the middle of the night and see that thing standing over you with a butcher knife in its ha - er, flipper.”

“That’s not funny.”

Trowa caught Heero’s pointed look and nodded affably. “Alright, guys. Wufei, off the couch. Let’s give the caterers a hand.”

Wufei tipped his head over the back of the couch and looked at him upside down. “And then what?”

“We can go get some lunch somewhere and do a little shopping. I still haven’t gotten Catherine a Christmas gift yet.”

“If there’s food involved, you can count me in,” Duo announced unsurprisingly. “Lemme just get my jacket.”

Wufei still hadn’t moved. “I hate shopping.”

“Just take one for the team, will you please?”

“Fine.”

“Thank you. Duo, too.”

Duo emerged from the study and flipped the collar of his motorcycle jacket up. “Did I hear my name?”

“Yeah. I was thanking you. For - y’know...this.”

“Hey, don’t mention it. Gotta get that last romp in before your flight leaves, right?”

“It’s not just that. I want to talk to him some more about all this.”

Wufei threw his hands up. “I think he’s already told us pretty much everything he knows. We've been grilling the poor guy for hours, give him a break.”

“That’s not what I want to ask him. I want to talk to him about how he’s holding up through all this. How he feels about it. If he’s okay, you know?” He glanced over at Trowa and a silent agreement passed between them. He needed to know as much as Quatre did that sex was not the end all be all to any of them. That the blond’s well being was just as important to them as it was to Trowa. “I know he’s already talked to you quite a bit, but I want to hear it from him.”

“I know. I’m sure he’ll appreciate that. He feels it, but it’s nice when someone tells you they care, too. And don’t worry, we’ll be back in time to get you to the shuttle port.”

“Take your time. I can hail a cab.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I don’t want you to rush. Just enjoy yourselves. I’ll probably see you in a couple of weeks anyway.”

He waited patiently for them to carry the last of the chafters down and then locked the door behind them. Trowa had a spare key so they’d have no trouble getting back in if Quatre passed out again.

Now _that_ was a thrilling thought. Admittedly, it made him feel manly and powerful. Macho. Being able to satisfy your partner to the point of exhaustion got the testosterone flowing and released potent pheromones to warn those who were looking to claim your territory that you were willing to spill blood to defend it.

Except in this case, there were no rivals. Even with the occasional flare-up of jealousy between the four of them, they were not competing with each other. Fundamentally, they were a unit. In a sense, they always had been. Heero was certain that once they became more comfortable with themselves and their bond, settling into their respective roles wouldn't be too difficult.

_We can do this. This is a cakewalk compared to what we’ve overcome in the past._

Quatre’s bedroom door was ajar and Heero could hear no sound from within. Instead of knocking, he pushed the door open just wide enough to peek inside and spotted the blond sprawled on his belly across the bed with his left arm and leg dangling over the side. He was clad in only a pair of pajama pants, Mickey Mouse ones from the looks of it.

How could he have forgotten what a wild sleeper Quatre was? He smiled as he remembered camping out on the beach in Sanq, trying to sleep with the other boy’s knees shoved into his back. At one point during the night, he’d woken up in a panic thinking someone was smothering him, only to find out that Quatre’s arm was pressed over his nose and mouth.

He approached the bed, peeling his t-shirt off as he went. He was already half-hard and once he got close enough to admire the lean muscle and smooth skin of Quatre’s back, his cock stiffened painfully against the fly of his jeans. He worked the denim and his underwear down over his hips and kicked them off to the side, while his eyes devoured the dramatic dip of Quatre’s lower back and the delectable swell of his ass that tempted him from underneath the linen fabric of those ridiculous Mickey Mouse sleep pants.

He’d been told - and also knew from experience - that a simple verbal, or mental command triggered the production of slick, though he didn’t know if would work while Quatre was asleep. Despite his better judgment, he chanced a slight push into the blond’s mind, probing gently to see if he could coax the Omega out of hiding.

He stumbled and nearly lost his footing when a sudden presence emerged and answered his summons. While its signature was uniquely Quatre’s, it felt different somehow. Raw, untamed, and ageless like the spiritual essence of a person, free and eternal in ways that “human” Quatre could never be.

_Soul. It’s his soul. Jesus, I might actually be insane, but what else could it be?_

And with startling clarity, he realized he was using his own spiritual essence to communicate with Quatre’s. This wasn’t telepathy in the typical sense. This was the connection of two forces, unhindered by the laws of their four dimensional universe. He felt half-in and half-out of his body, experiencing and observing at the same time. He sensed the Omega’s recognition of its Alpha and it opened itself like a flower in the sun, peeling back its fortress of petals to reveal the secrets hidden inside.

It knew its role just as the Alpha did and it waited patiently for its commands, ready to obey its every whim. Tentatively, he prompted it to activate Quatre’s Eroyica gland and a giddy thrill raced up his spine when it complied without question. The scent of slick reached his nostrils, spurring his heart to pump harder. He stared intently at the seat of the blond’s pants and his blood simmered as the first beads of moisture appeared on the fabric.

Quatre snuffled into the bedding and shifted his legs, but did not wake. Aroused by his scent and the anticipation of imminent sex, Heero prodded the Omega a little harder and watched the beads grow and merge together. Quatre moaned softly in his sleep, responding to the twinge of pleasure from deep within his subconscious.

Heero’s original plan had been to lay down beside him and wake him slowly with loving caresses and tender kisses. Perhaps even talk for a bit before getting down to business.

It wasn’t going to happen. Not with the scent of slick permeating the air, produced by the prone body of his Omega who was laid out before him like a gift from the gods. Definitely not after the enticing sound of Quatre’s drowsy moan stoked the embers of his desire. The Alpha was taking control and he had neither the strength, nor the will to stop it.

_Screw it. Talk is cheap anyway._

He hooked his fingers into the elastic waistband of Quatre’s pajama pants and yanked them down, exposing the smooth mounds of his ass. Quatre startled awake and mumbled sleepy half-questions as his pants were roughly pulled off his legs, but Heero said nothing, intent on the shiny wet slick smeared over creamy, alabaster skin.

Gripping a supple buttock in each hand, he parted the cheeks and his mouth watered like a starving wolf with a choice steak dangling beneath its nose. He watched a trickle of fluid roll down the blond’s perineum and then over the contoured shape of his balls before joining the already sizable stain on the bed. When the next one proceeded to follow the same path, he lunged forward, captured it on his tongue, and licked a wet stripe all the way up to the whorled flesh of Quatre's opening.

That first touch sparked the increased production of Eroycinnia and caused Quatre to unleash a garbled cry which he quickly smothered against the bedding in a rush of mortification. Heero sensed his embarrassment and decided to lay that nonsense to rest the only way he knew how.

He pressed his face in deeper, lapping up the slick with long swipes of his tongue before dipping into the blond’s hole to catch the rest before it could escape. Once pleasure took precedence, Quatre was as helpless to the feeling as Heero was to the taste. Inhibitions were shamelessly abandoned, thrown into an empty grave and buried under six feet of earth.

It took only seconds to bring him to orgasm and while he lay breathless and trembling in its wake, Heero took him from behind with a deep groan and possessive hands clamped tightly around his hips.

 

*******

 

“Somehow, I get the feeling that you’re greatly enjoying this peculiar situation of ours,” Quatre teased as they lay face to face on their sides in the aftermath of their coupling.

Heero pulled him flush against his chest and lifted his slender leg, draping it over his own hip. “Takes one to know one.”

Quatre snuggled against him and sighed contentedly. “I suppose playing hard to get is out of the question now. You can see right through me.”

“Not through you. Inside you. When we connected, it felt like...I don’t know. I mean, I could have sworn I saw your soul. Or...well, that’s the only word I can think of to describe it. Nothing else seems to fit. But then again, I’m probably certifiably insane so make of that what you will.”

“At this point, my dead father could show up at my door and ask to borrow a cup of sugar and it wouldn’t even faze me. If you say that’s what you saw, then I believe you.”

He smiled and lightly traced his fingertips down the protruding knobs of Quatre’s spine, feeling the skin break out in goosebumps beneath his touch. “Did you have a good nap, at least?”

“Mmm, yeah. Slept like the dead actually. I didn’t rest well last night. Tossed and turned until dawn and then gave up.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think any of us slept well. I didn’t.” He smiled sheepishly. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“That makes two of us,” Quatre assured him. He leaned forward and bit down gently into the sinewy flesh of Heero’s bicep, then licked over the impression left by his teeth. “I’m in for it tonight, aren’t I?”

He laughed and trailed his fingers down the crack of the blond’s ass, loving the hitch in his breath as he rubbed lightly over the ridges around his opening. “Let’s just say it’s a good thing you got a nap in first.”

“It’s too bad you can’t stay.”

“I know, but we’ll be together again soon.”

“Promise?”

“Are you kidding? God himself would have one hell of a time keeping me away from you.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in God.”

“It’s a metaphor, chucklehead.”

Quatre hummed and patted Heero’s chest. “You know, Duo’s right. Allegory doesn’t suit you.”

“Are you saying I should give up my dream of becoming a poet?”

“I’m saying, ‘Who are you and what have you done with Heero?’”

He scoffed and slapped Quatre's ass. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, ye of little faith.”

“Anytime. You can even have that one free of charge.”

He rolled his body on top of Quatre’s with a growl and pinned his arms down against the bed. “You’re mighty cheeky for someone in such a precarious position.”

“And what, pray tell, would that precarious position be?”

“The one where I tell your other Alphas that you need to be put in your place.”

Quatre’s laughter halted abruptly as Heero grinned wolfishly down at him. “You wouldn’t!”

“Try me.”

“You guys aren’t going to start ganging up on me, are you?”

Heero leaned down and kissed the tip of his nose. “Only when you misbehave.”

“Not fair,” Quatre groaned.

“Who said life was fair?”

“Just don’t start pissing all over the apartment like a pack of unneutered dogs, okay?”

“Are you pouting?”

“No!”

“You are.”

“Oh, shut up,” Quatre muttered, pushing Heero off and rolling onto his side away from him.

Heero however, wasn’t letting him off that easily. He scooted forward until he was flush against the blond’s back and wrapped his arms around him. Quatre tried to shrug him off, but it was pointless and he knew it. He’d seen those same arms bend steel and iron. He wasn’t going anywhere.

“Don’t be a brat,” Heero scolded.

“Don’t call me that!”

Taken aback by the uncharacteristic virulence in Quatre’s voice, he tried a softer approach. “I’m sorry. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t give me that shit, Quatre. You forget I can read you like a book.”

“Then figure it out yourself, oh wise one.”

Heero’s brow creased in concentration, attempting to ascertain the reason behind the drastic shift in Quatre’s mood and had to smother his laughter when he realized what he was so bent out of shape over.

“It’s not funny!”

“I’m sorry, Quatre. I truly am. It’s just...look, I know you’re a control freak and that this isn’t easy for you, but you know we would never do anything to hurt you, right?”

“Not the point.”

“I know it’s not, but I just want to make sure you understand that. We would never gang up on you with the intention of harming you.”

“I _know_ that.” Quatre huffed and turned to face him. “I’m just having a hard time getting comfortable with this feeling of helplessness.”

“Quatre, you’re not helpless.”

“I am, though. You realize I can never say ‘no’ to any of you, right? Even if I wanted to, I can’t. This parasite inside me controls my responses. All of them. I’m powerless to stop it. It doesn’t matter where I am, or what I’m doing, if you so much as think about having sex with me, I have no choice but to drop everything...including my pants.”

Finally beginning to comprehend what Quatre was struggling with, Heero reached over and caressed his cheek. “But we do try to make sure you enjoy it.”

“I do enjoy it, but that’s what I’m talking about. I don’t think it’s possible for me not to. I know it sounds like the opposite of a problem, but I think getting pleasure from it has more to do with the Omega forcing me to rather than something I’m enjoying out of my own free will. I mean - I’m not saying it’s the only reason I enjoy it, but - damn it, this is coming out all wrong. It’s so hard to explain.”

“It’s not coming out wrong, Quatre. I understand what you’re saying.”

“I just wish I knew how much of it is me and how much of it is this thing inside my head.”

“It’s _all_ you,” Heero told him. “And I know you know that because you’ve already said it. Do you know what a parasite is? It’s an invader. It’s something foreign that doesn’t belong in your body and it robs you of your nutrients and your strength. That’s not what the Omega is. It may feel new and unfamiliar to you, but it’s always been there, running in the background without you even knowing it. It’s as much a part of you as your eyes, or your hair. You’re not at war with some demon that wants to possess you. You’re at war with yourself and until you accept it, this won’t get any easier.”

Quatre was quiet for so long that Heero was beginning to think he wasn’t going to respond, but at last he said, “I suppose you’re right.”

He smiled and cupped the blond's porcelain cheek. “I know this is difficult. We’re all struggling to deal with what’s happened. Who the hell wouldn’t be? We were all thrown into this situation through no conscious choice of our own. It’s life-changing and it’s permanent and it will take time to come to terms with it. The important thing is that we’re all in this together and we’re going to help each other through it, no matter what it takes.”

“You really think we can do this?”

“We got through two wars together. I think we can handle our libidos.”

Quatre laughed and it warmed Heero’s heart to see the relief in his eyes and know that he wasn’t too hopeless when it came to comforting others. “Thanks. I feel a little better now. I’m sorry for biting your head off earlier.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for.”

“Are you still going to rat me out?”

“I think they already know. Our five-way connection basically gave them a front row seat, if you catch my meaning.”

“Yeah, I thought I felt them, but I wasn’t paying much attention. Kind of hard to focus on other matters when you’re getting your brains fucked out.” Quatre paused, looking thoughtful. “Does that mean you’ll feel us after you leave?”

“I don’t know if distance weakens how much we can sense. Guess we’ll find out soon enough, though.”

“I probably should have asked Iria about it, but I was too overwhelmed at the time. I’m pretty sure I was starting to get on her nerves anyway. There’s still so much to learn. It’s like those all-nighters I used to pull before exams where I had to cram so much information into my brain, it started leaking out of my ears.”

“Your brain leaked out of your ears, or the information?”

“Both.”

Heero chuckled. “Well, don’t stress yourself out. We’ll just take this one day at a time and learn as we go. Eventually it’ll feel like second nature and we’ll wonder how we ever lived any other way.”

“It’s hard to imagine now, but I know you’re right.”

“Are you going to be okay? You’re not worrying about tonight, are you?”

“No,” Quatre assured him, shaking his head for emphasis when Heero gave him a doubtful look. “I’m not, really. In fact, I’m so excited, I’m actually shaking and I need to stop thinking about it because it’s making me wet again.”

Heart pounding from hearing the word 'wet', Heero pushed his hand between the blond’s thighs and cursed when he felt slick accumulating around his opening. “That is so hot.”

Quatre sucked in a sharp breath and squeezed his thighs together. “Ah, fuck. Stop it! Do you have any idea what that does to me?”

Heero gave him a toothy grin. “Why do you think I’m doing it?”

It was inevitable and they both knew it. A prisoner to his Alpha’s lust and his own, Quatre trembled and obediently parted his legs in surrender. His entrance was still relaxed from their earlier coupling and once again preparing itself for Heero with that irresistible slick.

_Can we go another round? Do we even have time?_

With each passing second, it mattered less and less. Heero’s cock was rock hard and throbbing demands to be buried balls-deep in paradise. As he pushed his finger into Quatre’s wet heat, logic flew right out the window in lieu of insatiable appetite.

He lunged, rolling Quatre beneath him, and pressed his hips into the inviting space between the blond's creamy thighs. He was too far gone to consider foreplay, consumed only by the desperate need to fuck his way to a blinding orgasm.

Quatre put up no resistance, releasing only a soft breath as Heero slid all the way in and clamped his teeth around the delicate wing of a collarbone. The pace was rough and fast, each jarring thrust sending him further into a carnal frenzy. His arms trembled on either side of Quatre’s head, barely able to hold himself up under the force of his own propulsion.

Lost to the pleasure, Quatre whimpered beneath him and arched his back which allowed for deeper penetration. Heero stared down at him, mesmerized by the toned torso wrapped in pale skin and glistening with sweat. He admired the nicely defined chest and tiny nipples, rosy and begging to be sucked on. The sensual column of the blond's neck was stretched and bared, tempting Heero to bite.

_Feel me, my beautiful Omega. Feel every inch of me deep inside you. I’m not leaving here until I’ve marked you from the inside out. I want you to feel me for days, every time you move so you never forget who belong to. Don’t be afraid. You know what to do. You’ve been mine since the moment you were born. Embrace your fate as I embrace my own and I'll see to it that you never regret it._

His words were heard loud and clear despite not having spoken them out loud and he was pleased to see them achieve the desired effect. Quatre was beyond restraint, moaning brokenly as he was fucked towards a fast-approaching climax. His body was spurred into overdrive, producing an abundance of slick that ran down his haunches and soaked the bed beneath him. The scent was intoxicating and made Heero’s head spin. He fucked in harder, teeth clenched and sweat dripping into his eyes. He was close, but he held it back and steeled his determination to unravel Quatre first.

It took just five more thrusts before the blond opened his mouth in a silent cry and his muscles went taut like the string of a bow. Heero quickly pulled out and scooted back far enough to bury his face between the cheeks of Quatre’s ass in time to catch the orgasmic gush of fluid and greedily swallow it down.

On the first night, they’d found out about the copious amount of slick Quatre’s body released during climax after Wufei got hit in the face with it. It didn’t matter how many times they made the blond cum, he never seemed to run dry. Now they weren't only prepared for it, but they craved it the way detoxing junkies craved their next fix. They also discovered that consuming it prolonged Quatre’s orgasms to a torturous extent, pushing far beyond his ability to withstand them until he was forced to beg for reprieve.

The effect on the rest of them was different, but no less intense. Heero could already feel it coating his insides like an elixir, leaving pleasant warmth in its wake. He felt lightheaded, but virile, invincible, and compelled to sate his hunger inside the only man who could gratify it.

Quatre was spread out before him flushed and sweaty and deliciously wrecked. His legs were still wide open, though whether he was aware of it was uncertain. He barely flinched as he was penetrated once again and fucked hard enough to make the bed’s headboard thump rhythmically against the wall. The fluttering of his eyelashes and the kitten-soft cries were the only signs that he was still conscious.

Heero grabbed the backs of the blond's thighs and pushed his trembling legs down against the bed, leaving him no other choice but to ride out each brutal thrust. In his lust-clouded mind, mercy was not an option. Only the burning desire to take his pleasure from the body pinned beneath him.

He was startled out of his sex-crazed trance by a sharp, caustic pain that began at his lower back and moved steadily up to his shoulder blades. He hissed through his teeth and reflexively arched his spine in a desperate attempt to relieve the sting, wondering how long it had been since the blond trimmed his fingernails.

Apparently Quatre was not as stupefied as he’d originally thought.

_Oh ho, my naughty little pet. Now you’re going to get it._

He dropped his upper body down on top of Quatre’s, using his weight to hold him in place while he scrambled to catch the flailing wrists. Pressing them down on either side of the tousled blond head, he fucked in deep with quick snaps of his hips and sunk his teeth into the soft flesh of Quatre’s neck.

Subdued and unable to move, Quatre endured the force of Heero’s thrusts with clenched teeth and soft whimpers. The penetration was exquisitely deep, reawakening all the right places inside him that made him ache in the most maddening ways. Heero could feel them igniting like sparks of electricity, causing the fine hairs on his body to stand on end. 

After four more thrusts, Quatre was coming again with a weak cry of agony and pleasure. His body seized up and his limbs began to twitch and spasm uncontrollably. Another flood of slick pooled around Heero's cock, immersing him in liquid heat which triggered an orgasm so powerful that it blackened the edges of his vision and made him forget how to breathe. He let out an ear-piercing howl and pressed his groin flush against Quatre’s ass until he’d emptied his balls, taking the strength to hold himself up right along with it.

For the first several minutes, his head drifted lazily through the yellow and orange clouds of a late summer’s sky while his body felt abnormally heavy. For some weird reason, his mind conjured up an image of Wing Zero standing above him with its gargantuan foot on top of his back. As disturbing as it was, it still didn’t rouse him from his daze.

“Heero.”

“.....”

“Heero.”

“Hn…”

_“Heero!”_

He jerked awake and blinked blearily down at Quatre as his brain tried to make sense of its surroundings. “What? What’s wrong?”

“Would you please get off me? It’s a thousand degrees in this room and you’re twice as hot. I’m boiling alive under here.”

A dopey smile curled up the corners of his mouth. “You think I’m hot, eh?”

“Oh my god, would you just get -” Quatre shoved at his shoulders “- _off!”_

The blond was stronger than he looked and definitely stronger than Heero was at the moment. He yelped as Quatre heaved him up and pushed him off to the side where he flopped onto his back and stared up at the ceiling in shock. “Jesus Christ. Have you been working out, or something?”

“Or something,” Quatre said with a snort.

Heero watched him get up to dress and admired the view while he languished on top of the ruined bedding with his hands beneath his head. “Damn, you’ve got a beautiful ass, you know that?”

Quatre gave him a wry look over his shoulder. “Are you channeling Duo right now?”

“No. I’m just saying I love your ass.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

“I love your ass. I love your whole body. Quatre...it’s so beautiful. You’re so beautiful, especially your mind and your heart and...your spirit. I love everything about you.”

Quatre kept his back turned as he slipped his pajama pants on, but Heero could sense his uneasiness. It was so palpable, he could almost cut it with a knife. “Pretty sure that’s just your Alpha hormones talking.”

He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “My Alpha hormones are a part of me. If they’re talking, I’m talking.” Concerned when Quatre didn’t respond, he stood up and approached him, pulling him around so he could see his face. “You still doubt that?”

“How can I not? None of you showed even one iota of interest in me until a week and a half ago and now you’re declaring your love for me? Forgive me for being a little skeptical.”

Heero cupped his face and looked deep into his eyes. “How can you doubt it when you know our history together?”

Quatre stared back at him and shook his head somberly. “That was a different time, Heero. A different life. We were just kids in the midst of war, defeated, vulnerable, and desperate to feel loved.”

“So you’re telling me you felt nothing? Hey -” he pulled Quatre closer when the blond averted his gaze. “Look at me. Look me right in the eyes and tell me you felt nothing for me back then.”

When Quatre glanced back up at him, Heero could see the truth as bright and clear as the crystal blue-green of his irises. Quatre couldn’t tell him. He couldn’t tell him he’d felt nothing because he knew just as much as Heero did that it would be a lie.

Heero leaned in and kissed his lips with a tenderness that was so unlike the untamed aggression of their sex only minutes ago, but it conveyed his emotions and urgent need to comfort better than words ever could.

When he broke the kiss, Quatre ticked a brow at him. “I could have sworn you were head over heels for Relena.”

He laughed bitterly and pressed their foreheads together. “Quatre, I know you remember how messed up I was back then. I didn’t even know which way was up half the time. I was so torn, so conflicted by feelings I technically wasn't supposed to have. I didn’t know what any of it meant, or what to do about it. Besides, it is possible to feel things for more than one person at the same time.”

“What happened between you two anyway?”

He groaned and pulled away to search for his discarded clothing. “There’s not enough time in the world to get into that and definitely not enough time before my flight leaves.”

“Give me the CliffsNotes version then,” Quatre told him as he slipped a white t-shirt over his head. Heero laughed when he read the _‘Bitch, I’m Blonde, What’s Your Excuse?’_  slogan written across the front in hot pink letters.

“Well...basically I’m a soldier who was genetically engineered for war and she’s a civilian who just so happens to be the poster child for world peace. We were doomed from the start.”

Quatre stared at him expectantly and he cursed under his breath, exasperated by his unique ability to sniff out even the most inconvenient truths. “And?”

“And? I...eventually figured out that what I felt for her wasn’t so much romantic as it was, I don’t know. Brotherly? That doesn’t seem like the right word either.”

“She reminds you of someone from your past.”

Heero gave him a half-hearted glare. “I hate it when you do that.”

“Do what?”

“That,” he repeated, waving a hand at Quatre. “That memory-plucking thing you do. Gives me the creeps.”

“Says the guy who was just inside _my_ head ten minutes ago.”

“Hey, you were in mine, too.”

Quatre abruptly turned away, swiped his watch off the nightstand, and snapped it around his wrist. “It’s four thirty,” he announced by way of changing the subject. “Do you want me to -” He stopped short and gave Heero a panicked look. “Oh, shit! The caterers!”

“Relax. Already taken care of.”

“Oh. Well, thanks for that. I guess it slipped my mind after the epic smackdown this morning. Speaking of which, where’s the rest of the peanut gallery?”

Right on cue, the bedroom door swung open before Heero had a chance to answer. Duo popped his head inside, took stock of their rumpled clothes and disheveled hair, and grinned from ear to ear. “You rang?”

Quatre recovered from his shock faster than the speed of light. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough to hear you squealing like a deflowered prom queen," he quipped and ducked out of the room with a cackle, narrowly avoiding the flying projectile aimed at his head.

Quatre grumbled and turned his ire on Heero who raised his hands defensively. “What? What the hell did I do?”


End file.
